public career."

"And what is that essential?" he asked.

"Love," said Victoria. He heard the word but faintly, for her face was
still turned away from him. "You've offered me the things that are
attainable by taking thought, by perseverance, by pertinacity, by the
outwitting of your fellow-men, by the stacking of coins. And I want--the
unattainable, the divine gift which is bestowed, which cannot be
acquired. If it could be acquired, Humphrey," she added, looking at him,
"I am sure you would acquire it--if you thought it worth while."

"I don't understand you," he said,--and looked it.

"No," said Victoria, "I was afraid you wouldn't. And moreover, you never
would. There is no use in my trying to make myself any clearer, and
you'll have to keep your appointment. I hesitate to contradict you, but I
am not the kind of woman you want. That is one reason I cannot marry you.
And the other is, that I do not love you."

"You can't be in love with any one else?" he cried.

"That does seem rather preposterous, I'll admit," she answered. "But if I
were, it wouldn't make any difference."

"You won't marry me?" he said, getting to his feet. There was incredulity
in his voice, and a certain amount of bewilderment. The thing was indeed
incredible!

"No," said Victoria, "I won't."

And he had only to look into her face to see that it was so. Hitherto nil
desperandum had been a good working motto, but something told him it was
useless in this case. He thrust on his hat and pulled out his watch.

"Well," he said, "that settles it. I must--say I can't see your point of
view--but that settles it. I must say, too, that your refusal is
something of a shock after what I had been led to expect after the past
few years."

"The person you are in love with led you to expect it, Humphrey, and that
person is--yourself. You are in love temporarily with your own ideal of
me."

"And your refusal comes at an unfortunate tune for me," he continued, not
heeding her words, "when I have an affair on my hands of such magnitude,
which requires concentrated thought. But I'm not a man to cry, and I'll
make the best of it."

"If I thought it were more than a temporary disappointment, I should be
sorry for you," said Victoria. "I remember that you felt something like
this when Mr. Rutter wouldn't sell you his land. The lady you really
want," she added, pointing with her parasol at the house, "is in there,
waiting for you."

Mr. Crewe did not