I--I want to
learn."

"Do you always follow your impulses like this?" she put in.

"I've never had one worth following before," I said.

"What about wanting to fight Frank Jervaise?" she asked. "And running away
from the Hall? And suddenly taking Arthur's side in the row? and all those
things? Didn't you follow your impulses, then?"

And yet, it had never before occurred to me that I was impulsive. I had
imagined myself to be self-controlled, rather business-like, practical. I
was frankly astonished at this new light on my character.

"I suppose I did, in a way," I admitted doubtfully.

"To say nothing of..." she began, and stopped with a little, rather
embarrassed laugh.

"Of what?" I urged her.

"How many times before have you imagined yourself to be head over ears in
love?" she asked.

I was repaid in that moment for all the self-denials and fastidious
shrinkings of my youth.

"Never once!" I acclaimed triumphantly. "It's the one common experience
that has passed me by. I've often wondered why I could never fall in love.
I've admired any number of women. I've tried to fall in love with them.
And I have never been able to, try as I would. I could deceive myself
about other things, but never about that. Now, I know why."

I waited for her encouragement, but as she did not speak I went on with
more hesitation. "You'll think me a romantic fool, I suppose, if I tell
you why?"

"Oh! I know, I know," she said. "You've told me already in so many words.
You mean that you've been waiting for me; that you _had_ to wait for me.
You've been very frank. You deserve some return. Shall I tell you just how
I feel? I will. I don't mind telling you the truth, too. I did remember
you last night. But not since; not even now. But I like you--I like you
very much--as you are this evening. More than I've ever liked any man
before. And if you went away, I should remember you; and want you to come
back. But you must give me time. Lots of time. Don't make love to me any
more; not yet; not till I've really remembered. I think I shall--in a
little while--when you've gone away. You're so near me, now. And so _new_.
You don't belong to my life, yet."

She paused and then went on in another tone. "But I believe you're right
about Canada. I'll explain it all to the others. We'll make some kind of
arrangement about it. I expect it will have to be _your_ farm, nominally,
for a time--until we all know you better. I can feel that you do