There was no doubt whatever about Edith and the energetic John. They led the way round by the river path and the tennis-courts with a sublime disregard for the eye of the multitude, leaving Dora and Arthur to follow at such speed as their discretion might dictate.
Before they had left the tennis-lawn Arthur plunged. It may have been the desperation of diffidence, or perhaps that the new grey suit and the unique tie lent him confidence. One sees a young lady completely carried off her mental status by the success of a dress or the absence of a dreaded competitor, and Arthur Agar had enough of the woman in him to give way to this dangerous vertigo.
"Dora," he said, "you have not answered my last three letters."
"No," she replied, "because they struck me as a little ridiculous."
"Ridiculous!" he repeated, with such sincere dismay that she was moved to compassion. "Ridiculous, Dora, why?"
His horror-struck, almost tearful voice gave her a pang of self-reproach, as if she had struck some defenceless dumb animal.
"Well, there were things in them that I did not understand."
"But I could make you understand them," he said, with a sudden self-assertion which startled her. The weakest man is, after all, a man--so far as women are concerned.
"I think you had better not," she said, hurrying her steps.
But he refused to alter his pace, and he disregarded her warning.
"They meant," he said, "that I wanted you to know that I love you."
There was a little pause. Dora was struck dumb by a chill sense of foreboding. It was like a momentary glance into a future full of trouble.
"I am sorry," she said, "for that. I hope--that you may find that it is a mistake."
"But it is not a mistake. I don't see why it should be one."
Dora paused. She was afraid to strike. She did not know yet that it is less cruel to be cruel at once.
"It is best to look at these things practically," she said. "And if we look at it practically we shall find that you and I are not at all likely to be happy together."
"However I look at it, I only see that I should never be happy without you."
"Then, Arthur, you are not looking at it practically."
"No, and I don't want to," he replied doggedly.
"That is a mistake. A little bit of life may not be practical, but all the rest of it is; and for the gratification of that little bit, there is all the rest to be lived through."