best frame of mind, you see, to
decide such a serious matter. Fortunately, to wait a little while and
think it over quietly can do no harm to anybody now. And then, if you
still feel the same way about it, of course I shall want to do what
you wish."

He had had Carlisle's feelings only at second-hand, through a medium
perhaps wanting in transparence. Her hesitancy considerably surprised
him. To Carlisle, as was almost equally inevitable, it was as if in the
solid rock of their mutual understanding there had suddenly appeared a
tiny crack. She felt the reasonableness as well as the tenderness with
which Hugo spoke; she wanted nothing in the world but to do what he
wanted. And yet it seemed somehow a physical impossibility for her now
to say that she would unsettle and postpone it all,--something, say, as
if Hugo had asked her to step back into last year or the year before.
And she tried to make him understand this, saying--what seemed a feeble
reply to his logic:

"You see, I--I've already thought about it a good deal, Hugo ... And
putting it off would only make me--miserable and ill. I can't explain
very well.... I think I could begin to--to forget about it if--when...."

This she said over several times, in different ways, as the necessary
discussion proceeded....

It was naturally hard for Hugo to grasp the grounds on which she
rejected a mere deferment of painful discussion till to-morrow morning
(for he reduced his proposal to that), or even to see why, though
opposed herself, she would not readily be guided in so small a matter by
his wishes. The soft chimes in the hall had rung five before it
definitely came over him that the preliminaries had oddly, indeed
incredibly, gone against him.

He faced the fact frankly, without perceptible sign of annoyance.

"Well, then, my dearest girl, I'm afraid we shall have to talk about it
a little now...."

They sat side by side on papa's faded old lounge, where they had spent
many an hour together in happier days. Canning held Carlisle's hand in a
reassuring grasp. Her heart warmed to him anew: if he did not quite seem
to understand--what wonder when she hardly did herself?--his was a love
that drew its roots deeper than understanding. Nevertheless she flinched
from a discussion which promised to be carried on chiefly by her
over-strung nerves; and all at once she felt that she must know
instantly what threatened, exactly what he thought about it.

"Hugo ... do you--