Beatrix and her maid were already at the station when Grafton arrived. He had only allowed himself ten minutes, and was busy getting tickets, finding a carriage and buying papers, until it was nearly time for the train to start. Then he found somebody to talk to, and only joined Beatrix at the last moment. She had given him rather a pathetic look of enquiry when he had first come up to them waiting for him in the booking-office. Now she sat in her corner of the carriage, very quiet. They were alone together. He sat down opposite to her, and took her hand in his. "My darling," he said, "he isn't the right man for you. You must forget him." She left her hand lying in his, inertly. Her eyes were wide and her face pale as she asked: "Have you told him he can't marry me at all?" He changed his seat to one beside her. "B darling," he said, "you know I wouldn't hurt you if I could help it. I hated the idea of it so much last night that I couldn't tell you, as perhaps I ought to have done, that I didn't think you'd see him again. I wasn't quite sure. He might have been different from what I thought him. But he isn't the husband for a girl like you, darling. He made that quite plain." Her hands lay in her lap, and she was looking out of the window. "Did you send him away?" she asked, turning her head towards him. "Isn't he going to see me again--or write to me?" "He won't see you again. I didn't tell him he wasn't to write to you, but I don't think he will; I hope he won't. It's no good, darling. The break has come; it must make you very unhappy for a time, I know that, my dear little girl. But I hope it won't be for long. We all love you dearly at home, you know. We shall make it up to you in time." He felt, as he said this, how entirely devoid of comfort such words must be to her. The love of those nearest to her, which had been all-sufficing, would count as nothing in the balance against the new love that she wanted. She had told him the night before that the new love heightened and increased the old; and so it would, as long as he, who had hitherto come first with her, stepped willingly down from that eminence, and added his tribute to hers. Opposition instead of tribute would wipe out, for the time at least, all that she had felt for him during all the years of her life. The current of all her love was pouring into the new channel that had been opened up. There would be none to water the old channels, unless they led into the new one.