“I tell you fairly that I think you altogether wrong — that it is cowardly, unmanly, and disgraceful. I don’t mean, you see, to put what you call a fine point upon it.”

“No, you don’t.”

“It is one of those matters on which a person must speak the truth or not speak at all. I should not have spoken unless you forced it upon me. You don’t care for her in the least.”

“That’s true. I do not know that I am especially quick at what you call caring for young ladies. If I care for anybody it is for you.”

“I suppose so; but that may as well be dropped for the present. You mean to marry this girl simply because she has got a lot of money?”

“Exactly that — as you before long will marry some gentleman only because he has got money.”

“You have no right to say so because I am engaged to no man. But if I were so it is quite different. Unless I marry I can be nobody. I can have no existence that I can call my own. I have no other way of pushing myself into the world’s notice. You are a man.”

“You mean to say that I could become a merchant or a lawyer — be a Lord Chancellor in time, or perhaps an Archbishop of Canterbury.”

“You can live and eat and drink and go where you wish without being dependent on anyone. If I had your freedom and your means do you think that I would marry for money?”

In this dialogue the main part was taken by Mr Frank Houston, whose ambition it was to marry Miss Gertrude Tringle, and the lady’s part by his cousin and intimate friend, Miss Imogene Docimer. The scene was a walk through a pine forest on the southern slopes of the Tyrolean Alps, and the occasion had been made a little more exhilarating than usual by the fact that Imogene had been strongly advised both by her brother, Mr Mudbury Docimer, and by her sister-in law, Mrs Mudbury Docimer, not to take any more distant rambles with her far-away cousin Frank Houston. In the teeth of that advice this walk was taken, and the conversation in the pine wood had at the present moment arrived at the point above given.

“I do not know that any two persons were ever further asunder in an argument than you and I in this,” said Frank, not in the least disconcerted by the severe epithets which had been applied to him. “I conceive that you are led away by a desire to deceive yourself, whereas hypocrisy should only be used with the object of deceiving others.”

“How do I deceive myself?”

“In making believe that men are generally different from what they are — in trying to suppose that I ought to be, if I am not, a hero. You shall not find a man whose main object is not that of securing an income. The clergyman who preaches against gold licks the ground beneath the minister’s feet in order that he may become a bishop. The barrister cares not with what case he may foul his hands so long as he may become rich. The man in trade is so aware of his own daily dishonesty that he makes two separate existences for himself, and endeavours to atone for his rascality in the City by his performance of all duties at the West End. I regard myself to be so infinitely cleaner in my conscience than other men that I could not bring myself to be a bishop, an attorney-general, or a great merchant. Of all the ways open to me this seems to me to be the least sordid. I give her the only two things which she desires — myself and a position. She will give me the only thing I desire, which is some money. When you marry you’ll make an equally fine bargain — only your wares will be your beauty.”

“You will not give her yourself — not your heart.”

“Yes, I shall. I shall make the most of her, and shall do so by becoming as fond of her as I can. Of course I like breeding. Of course I like beauty. Of course I like that aroma of feminine charm which can only be produced by a mixture of intellect, loveliness, taste, and early association. I don’t pretend to say that my future would not be much sweeter before me with you as my wife — if only either of us had a sufficiency of income. I acknowledge that. But then I acknowledge also that I prefer Miss Tringle, with ￡100,000, to you with nothing; and I do not think that I ought to be called unmanly, disgraceful, and a coward, because I have courage enough to speak the truth openly to a friend whom I trust. My theory of life shocks you, not because it is uncommon, but because it is not commonly declared.”

They were silent for a while as they went on through the path, and then Miss Docimer spoke to him in an altered voice. “I must ask you not to speak to me again as one who by any possibility could have been your wife.”

“Very well. You will not wish me to abandon the privilege of thinking of past possibilities?”

“I would — if it were possible.”

“Quite impossible! One’s thoughts, I imagine, are always supposed to be one’s own.”

“You know what I mean. A gentleman will always spare a woman if he can do so; and there are cases such as have been ours, in which it is a most imperative duty to do so. You should not have followed us when you had made up your mind about this young lady.”

“I took care to let you know, beforehand, that I intended it.”

“You should not have thrown the weight upon me. You should not even have written to me.”

“I wonder what you would have said then — how loudly you would have abused me — had I not written! Would you not have told me then that I had not the courage to be open with you?” He paused for an answer, but she made none. “But I do recognize the necessity of my becoming subject to abuse in this state of affairs. I have been in no respect false, nor in any way wanting in affection. When I suggested to you that 600 pounds a year between us, with an increasing family, and lodgings in Marylebone, would be uncomfortable, you shuddered at the prospect. When I explained to you that you would have the worst of it because my club would be open to me, you were almost angry with me because I seemed to imply that there could be any other than one decision.”

“There could only be one decision — unless you were man enough to earn your bread.”

“But I wasn’t. But I ain’t. You might as well let that accident pass, sans dire. Was there ever a moment in which you thought that I should earn my bread?”

“Never for a moment did I endow you with the power of doing anything so manly.”

“Then why throw it in my teeth now? That is not fair. However, I do own that I have to be abused. I don’t see any way in which you and I are to part without it. But you need not descend to Billingsgate.”

“I have not descended to Billingsgate, Mr Houston.”

“Upper-world Billingsgate! Cowardice, as an accusation from a woman to a man, is upper-world Billingsgate. But it doesn’t matter. Of course I know what it means. Do you think your brother wants me to go away at once?”

“At once,” she said.

“That would be disagreeable and absurd. You mean to sit to me for that head?”

“Certainly not.”

“I cannot in the least understand why not. What has a question of art to do with marriage or giving in marriage? And why should Mrs Docimer be so angry with me, when she has known the truth all along?”

“There are questions which it is of no avail to answer. I have come out with you now because I thought it well that we should have a final opportunity of understanding each other. You understand me at any rate.”

“Perfectly,” he said. You have taken especial care on this occasion to make yourself intelligible.”

“So I intended. And as you do understand me, and know how far I am from approving your philosophy, you can hardly wish to remain with us longer.” Then they walked on together in absolute silence for above a mile. They had come out of the wood, and were descending, by a steep and narrow path, to the village in which stood the hotel at which the party was staying. Another ten minutes would take them down to the high road. The path here ran by the side of a rivulet, the course of which was so steep that the waters made their way down in a succession of little cataracts. From the other side of the path was a fence, so close to it, that on this particular spot there was room only for one to walk. Here Frank Houston stepped in front of his companion, so as to stop her. “Imogene,” he said, if it is intended that I am to start by the diligence for Innsbruck this evening, you had better bid me farewell at once.”

“I have bidden you farewell,” she said.

“Then you have done it in so bitter a mood that you had better try your hand at it again. Heaven only knows in what manner you or I may meet again.”

“What does it matter?” she asked.

“I have always felt that the hearts of men are softer than the hearts of women. A woman’s hand is soft, but ............