“He knows in a way, but he doesn’t realize the knowledge, nor does he quite know the material he has to work on, or how the twist came into the warp and woof of it. Gwen, don’t let your horrid truthfulness make you cruel, be patient, dearest, be patient, this love won’t come like a shock, it will steal in on you, and I am perfectly convinced your first impulse will be to kick it out.” Gwen gave a little laugh. Mrs. Fellowes dropped the brooch with which she was going to fasten Gwen’s collar, went a few steps away, and looked at her. “Humphrey knows precious little about you,” she cried, with some natural irritation, “he is dazed, small blame to him! so am I, so is John, we are all dazed.” Her eyes filled suddenly with tears. “We all pour out our love on you, and—and for what? Just for a cold ghost of a thing, for mere hope—hope, what good is that to any man? Now, look here, Gwen, don’t let Humphrey know this, naked truth though it be. There is no lie in the matter, you can love, darling, you can, ’tis only the learning that is the trouble for you, but I have a horrid hateful presentiment, in spite of all I can say, that your most objectionable direct methods will run you into deplorable difficulties.” “Truth is tangible, even if it is brutal,” said Gwen, “but love—love—love, this intangible vague horror, why should I be persecuted with it, why should I realize now that, vague as the thing is, it is sacred, and a sort of crime of a very low order to be incapable of it? I got as far as that in church to-day with all those glaring faces on me, and Mr. Fellowes’ eyes—he has no right to look through people like that!” She turned away to hide the crimson in her cheeks. “Then this one-flesh business, this is a horrid thing.” She squeezed her hands into her eyes. “This is maddening!” she cried, and sprang up and stood looking out of the window. “One flesh!” she murmured breathlessly, “One flesh!” Presently she shook herself, and with a long sigh brought the calmness back into her face, then she went and put her two hands on Mrs. Fellowes’ shoulders and looked down on the sad face with a little laugh. “Look here!” she said, “advise every girl you care about not to try experiments in marriage, and to read the marriage service with the man she is engaged to standing opposite to her, before she dares to quote from it in church before all the rag-tag and bobtail of society. And now, give me my hat and kiss me, you don’t know how much a part of my life your love for me is, even though it is fed on hope only, and—I shall try to be honest to myself without any flagrant brutality to Humphrey,” she said laughing, “I think that is all I can promise just yet. Ah, what a lovely scheme of colour!” she cried, looking at her superb figure, in its dusty-amethyst gown with the flashes of lemon-yellow in it. “Do you think my father and mother are awake to the fact that I am married to-day?” she demanded.