"It ought to be beer," answered Brook, gravely. "But then, you know how it is--one has all sorts of experts, and one ends by taking their word for granted about it. I don't believe I have any line--unless it's in the way of out-of-door things. I'm fond of shooting, and I can ride fairly, you know, like anybody else." "Yes," said Clare, "you were telling me so the other day, you know." "Yes," Johnstone murmured thoughtfully, "that's true. Please excuse me. I'm always repeating myself." "I didn't mean that." Her tone changed a little. "You can be very amusing when you like, you know." "Thanks, awfully. I should like to be amusing now, for instance, but I can't." "Now? Why now?" "Because I'm boring you to madness, little by little, and I'm awfully sorry too, for I want you to like me--though you say you never will--and of course you can't like a bore, can you? I say, Miss Bowring, don't you think we could strike some sort of friendly agreement--to be friends without 'liking,' somehow? I'm beginning to hate the word. I believe it's the colour of my hair or my coat--or something--that you dislike so. I wish you'd tell me. It would be much kinder. I'd go to work and change it--" "Dye your hair?" Clare laughed, glad that the ice was broken again. "Oh yes--if you like," he answered, laughing too. "Anything to please you." "Anything 'in reason'--as you proposed yesterday." "No--anything in reason or out of it. I'm getting desperate!" He laughed again, but in his laughter there was a little note of something new to the young girl, a sort of understreak of earnestness. "It isn't anything you can change," said Clare, after a moment's hesitation. "And it certainly has nothing to do with your appearance, or your manners, or your tailor," she added. "Oh well, then, it's evidently something I've done, or said," Brook murmured, looking at her. But she did not return his glance, as they walked side by side; indeed, she turned her face from him a little, and she said nothing, for she was far too truthful to deny his assertion. "Then I'm right," he said, with an interrogation, after a long pause. "Don't ask me, please! It's of no importance after all. Talk of something else." "I don't agree with you," Brook answered. "It is very important to me." "Oh, nonsense!" Clare tried to laugh. "What difference can it make to you, whether I like you or not?" "Don't say that. It makes a great difference--more than I thought it could, in fact. One--one doesn't like to be misjudged by one's friends, you know." "But I'm not your friend." "I want you to be." "I can't."