All this time she held his hand, but in such sisterly, kind fashion, that he felt more at ease with her than it was ever possible to be with Pensée, who was timid, and therefore disturbing.
"Have you accepted Marshire?" he asked at once.
"No," she said, blushing; "I do not love him sufficiently to marry him."
"You know that I always fly from important mediocrities. You think that sounds heartless. He has been so kind to me. But I love as I must--not as I ought. My dear friend, all the trouble in life is due to forced affection. Look at Beauclerk! Think of Agnes Carillon! What fiery fierceness of sorrow in both their hearts! Papa and I were at Lady Churleigh's last Sunday. Agnes was there, looking, believe me, lovely. No portrait does her justice. One finds marvellous beauty, now and again, in the middle classes. She is an exquisite _bourgeoise_. She is not clever enough to feel bored; she is too well brought up to be fascinating; too handsome to insist on homage. Plain women are exacting and capricious--they make themselves _worth while_. _Il faut se faire valoir!_ That is why a man will often adore an ugly woman for ever, whereas an Agnes--an Agnes----"
She paused, gave him a glance, and laughed.
"Can one man judge another in these questions?"
"As for conscious hypocrisy, a priest of great experience once told me that in twenty years he had met but one deliberate hypocrite. You must be less cynical. Men, however, don't watch each other closely as a rule in sentimental matters."
"If that is a reproof, I thank you for it," she answered. "It may do me good. This wayward soul of mine is all wrong. Be patient with me. I can't help thinking that most men living are, at the bottom, wholly selfish and truly miserable."
"Very few people are truly miserable. If this were not the case, the world and all creatures must have perished long ago."
"Well, I can tell you of three wretches at any rate."
"Three--against the world and all the planets and heaven?" said he.
"Yes. They are Beauclerk, and Agnes and I. We want time and space annihilated in order that we may be happy. We must be humorous studies to those looking on, but we are, nevertheless, utterly desperate. This is true. Scold me now--if you can. Tell me what is to become of us--if you dare."