, as
things are, I wish you to know that I cannot conscientiously put in a
claim upon your attention.'

A second meaning was written in Christopher's look, though he scarcely
uttered it. A woman so delicately poised upon the social globe could not
in honour be asked to wait for a lover who was unable to set bounds to
the waiting period. Yet he had privily dreamed of an approach to that
position--an unreserved, ideally perfect declaration from Ethelberta that
time and practical issues were nothing to her; that she would stand as
fast without material hopes as with them; that love was to be an end with
her henceforth, having utterly ceased to be a means. Therefore this
surreptitious hope of his, founded on no reasonable expectation, was like
a guilty thing surprised when Ethelberta answered, with a predominance of
judgment over passion still greater than before:

'It is unspeakably generous in you to put it all before me so nicely,
Christopher. I think infinitely more of you for being so unreserved,
especially since I too have been thinking much on the indefiniteness of
the days to come. We are not numbered among the blest few who can afford
to trifle with the time. Yet to agree to anything like a positive
parting will be quite unnecessary. You did not mean that, did you? for
it is harsh if you did.' Ethelberta smiled kindly as she said this, as
much as to say that she was far from really upbraiding him. 'Let it be
only that we will see each other less. We will bear one another in mind
as deeply attached friends if not as definite lovers, and keep up
friendly remembrances of a sort which, come what may, will never have to
be ended by any painful process termed breaking off. Different persons,
different natures; and it may be that marriage would not be the most
favourable atmosphere for our old affection to prolong itself in. When
do you leave London?'

The disconnected query seemed to be subjoined to disperse the crude
effect of what had gone before.

'I hardly know,' murmured Christopher. 'I suppose I shall not call here
again.'

Whilst they were silent somebody entered the room softly, and they turned
to discover Picotee.

'Come here, Picotee,' said Ethelberta.

Picotee came with an abashed bearing to where the other two were
standing, and looked down steadfastly.

'Mr. Julian is going away,' she continued, with determined firmness. 'He
will not see us again for a long time.' And Ethelberta adde