"Well, you ought to like this."

"Oh, that's different. That's often infuriating."

They went on, and then paused at the low stone wall between the pasture
and the pines.

"Before I say it, you must _promise_ to take it in the right way," she
said.

He asked, teasingly, "Why do you think I won't?"

"Because--because I wish you to so much!"

"And am I such a contrary-minded person that you can't trust me to
behave myself, under ordinary provocation?"

"You may think the provocation is extraordinary."

"Well, let's see." He got himself over the wall, and allowed her to
scramble after him.

She asked herself whether, if he had the traditions of a society man, he
would have done that; but somehow, when she looked at his dreamy face,
rapt in remote thought that beautified it from afar, she did not care
for his neglect of small attentions. She said to herself that if a woman
could be the companion of his thoughts that would be enough; she did not
go into the details of arranging association with thoughts so far off as
Maxwell's; she did not ask herself whether it would be easy or possible.
She put the cushion into the hammock for a pillow, but he chose to sit
beside her on the bench between the pine-tree boles, and the hammock
swayed empty in the light breeze that woke the sea-song of the boughs
over them.

"I don't know exactly how to begin," she said, after a little silence.

"If you'll tell me what you want to say," he suggested, "I'll begin for
you."

"No, thank you, I'll begin myself. Do you remember, the other day, when
we were here, and were talking of the difference in peoples' pride?"

"Purse pride and poverty pride? Yes, I remember that."

"I didn't like what you said, then; or, rather, what you were."

"Have you begun now? Why didn't you?"

"Because--because you seemed very worldly."

"And do you object to the world? I didn't make it," said Maxwell, with
his scornful smile. "But I've no criticisms of the Creator to offer. I
take the world as I find it, and as soon as I get a little stronger, I'm
going back to it. But I thought you were rather worldly yourself, Miss
Hilary."

"I don't know. I don't believe I am, very. Don't you think the kind of
life Matt's trying to live is better?"

"Your brother is the best man I ever knew--"

"Oh, isn't he? Magnificent!"

"But life means business. Even literary life, as I understand it, means
business."

"And can't you think--can't you wish--for anyt