Ralph took some pride in the resources of his mind；
and was insensibly helped to right himself by Mary’s trust
in him。 She wound her ivy spray round her ashplant； and
for the first time for many days； when alone with Ralph；
set no spies upon her motives； sayings； and feelings； but
surrendered herself to plete happiness。
Thus talking； with easy silences and some pauses to
look at the view over the hedge and to decide upon the
species of a little graybrown bird slipping among the
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twigs； they walked into Lincoln； and after strolling up
and down the main street； decided upon an inn where
the rounded window suggested substantial fare； nor were
they mistaken。 For over a hundred and fifty years hot
joints； potatoes； greens； and apple puddings had been
served to generations of country gentlemen； and now；
sitting at a table in the hollow of the bow window； Ralph
and Mary took their share of this perennial feast。 Looking
across the joint； halfway through the meal； Mary
wondered whether Ralph would ever e to look quite
like the other people in the room。 Would he be absorbed
among the round pink faces； pricked with little white
bristles； the calves fitted in shiny brown leather； the blackand
white check suits； which were sprinkled about in the
same room with them？ She half hoped so； she thought
that it was only in his mind that he was different。 She
did not wish him to be too different from other people。
The walk had given him a ruddy color； too； and his eyes
were lit up by a steady； honest light； which could not
make the simplest farmer feel ill at ease； or suggest to
the most devout of clergymen a disposition to sneer at
his faith。 She loved the steep cliff of his forehead； and
pared it to the brow of a young Greek horseman； who
reins his horse back so sharply that it half falls on its
haunches。 He always seemed to her like a rider on a spirited
horse。 And there was an exaltation to her in being
with him； because there was a risk that he would not be
able to keep to the right pace among other people。 Sitting
opposite him at the little table in the window； she
came back to that state of careless exaltation which had
overe her when they halted by the gate； but now it
was acpanied by a sense of sanity and security； for
she felt that they had a feeling in mon which scarcely
needed embodiment in words。 How silent he was！ leaning
his forehead on his hand； now and then； and again
looking steadily and gravely at the backs of the two men
at the next table； with so little selfconsciousness that
she could almost watch his mind placing one thought
solidly upon the top of another； she thought that she
could feel him thinking； through the shade of her fingers；
and she could anticipate the exact moment when
he would put an end to his thought and turn a little in
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his chair and say：
“Well； Mary—？” inviting her to take up the thread of
thought where he had dropped it。
And at that very moment he turned just so； and said：
“Well； Mary？” with the curious touch of diffidence which
she loved in him。
She laughed； and she explained her laugh on the spur
of the moment by the look of the people in the street
below。 There was a motorcar with an old lady swathed in
blue veils； and a lady’s maid on the seat opposite； holding
a King Charles’s spaniel； there was a countrywoman
wheeling a perambulator full of sticks down the middle
of the road； there was a bailiff in gaiters discussing the
state of the cattle market with a dissenting minister—so
she defined them。
She ran over this list without any fear that her panion
would think her trivial。 Indeed； whether it was
due to the warmth of the room or to the good roast beef；
or whether Ralph had achieved the process which is called
making up one’s mind； certainly he had given up testing
the good sense； the independent character； the intelli
gence shown in her remarks。 He had been building one of
those piles of thought； as ramshackle and fantastic as a
Chinese pagoda； half from words let fall by gentlemen in
gaiters； half from the litter in his own mind； about duck
shooting and legal history； about the Roman occupation
of Lincoln and the relations of country gentlemen with
their wives； when； from all this disconnected rambling；
there suddenly formed itself in his mind the idea that he
would ask Mary to marry him。 The idea was so spontaneous
that it seemed to shape itself of its own accord before
his eyes。 It was then that he turned round and made
use of his old； instinctive phrase：
“Well； Mary—？”
As it presented itself to him at first； the idea was so
new and interesting that he was half inclined to address
it； without more ado； to Mary herself。 His natural instinct
to divide his thoughts carefully into two different classes
before he expressed them to her prevailed。 But as he
watched her looking out of the window and describing
the old lady； the woman with the perambulator； the bailiff
and the dissenting minister； his eyes filled involun
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tarily with tears。 He would have liked to lay his head on
her shoulder and sob； while she parted his hair with her
fingers and soothed him and said：
“There； there。 Don’t cry！ Tell me why you’re crying—”；
and they would clasp each other tight； and her arms would
hold him like his mother’s。 He felt that he was very lonely；
and that he was afraid of the other people in the room。
“How damnable this all is！” he exclaimed abruptly。
“What are you talking about？” she replied； rather
vaguely； still looking out of the window。
He resented this divided attention more than； perhaps；
he knew； and he thought how Mary would soon be on her
way to America。
“Mary；” he said； “I want to talk to you。 Haven’t we
nearly done？ Why don’t they take away these plates？”
Mary felt his agitation without looking at him； she felt
convinced that she knew what it was that he wished to
say to her。
“They’ll e all in good time；” she said； and felt it
necessary to display her extreme calmness by lifting a
saltcellar and sweeping up a little heap of breadcrumbs。
“I want to apologize；” Ralph continued； not quite knowing
what he was about to say； but feeling some curious
instinct which urged him to mit himself irrevocably；
and to prevent the moment of intimacy from passing。
“I think I’ve treated you very badly。 That is； I’ve told you
lies。 Did you guess that I was lying to you？ Once in Lincoln’s
Inn Fields and again today on our walk。 I am a liar； Mary。
Did you know that？ Do you think you do know me？”
“I think I do；” she said。
At this point the waiter changed their plates。
“It’s true I don’t want you to go to America；” he said；
looking fixedly at the tablecloth。 “In fact； my feelings
towards you seem to be utterly and damnably bad；” he
said energetically； although forced to keep his voice low。
“If I weren’t a selfish beast I should tell you to have
nothing more to do with me。 And yet； Mary；