He saw that it was not always possible to argue with his mother, and he said nothing more. But he reflected upon her point of view, and he saw that it was not altogether unjust, as she knew him. She could not possibly understand that what he felt for Clare Bowring bore not the slightest resemblance to what he had felt for Lady Fan, if, indeed, he had felt anything at all, which he considered doubtful now that it was over, though he would have been angry enough at the suggestion a month earlier. To tell the truth, he felt quite sure of himself at the present time, though all his sensations were more or less new to him. And his mother's sudden and rather eccentric opposition unexpectedly strengthened his determination. He might laugh at what he called her originality, but he could not afford to jest at the prospect of her giving Clare an account of his life. She was quite capable of it, and would probably do it. These preoccupations, however, were as nothing compared with the main point--the certainty that Clare would refuse him, if he offered himself to her, and when he left his mother he was in a very undetermined state of mind. If he should ask Clare to marry him now, she would refuse him. But if his mother interfered, it would be much worse a week hence. At last, as ill-luck would have it, he came upon her unexpectedly in the corridor, as he came out, and they almost ran against each other. "Won't you come out for a bit?" he asked quickly and in a low voice. "Thanks--I have some letters to write," answered the young girl. "Besides, it's much too hot. There isn't a breath of air." "Oh, it's not really hot, you know," said Brook, persuasively. "Then it's making a very good pretence!" laughed Clare. "It's ever so much cooler out of doors. If you'll only come out for one minute, you'll see. Really--I'm in earnest." "But why should I go out if I don't want to?" asked the young girl. "Because I asked you to--" "Oh, that isn't a reason, you know," she laughed again. "Well, then, because you really would, if I hadn't asked you, and you only refuse out of a spirit of opposition," suggested Brook. "Oh--do you think so? Do you think I generally do just the contrary of what I'm asked to do?" "Of course, everybody knows that, who knows you." Brook seemed amused at the idea. "If you think that--well, I'll come, just for a minute, if it's only to show you that you are quite wrong." "Thanks, awfully. Sha'n't we go for the little walk that was interrupted when my people came the other day?" "No--it's too hot, really. I'll walk as far as the end of the terrace and back--once. Do you mind telling me why you are so tremendously anxious to have me come out this very minute?" "I'll tell you--at least, I don't know that I can--wait till we are outside. I should like to be out with you all the time, you know--and I thought you might come, so I asked you." "You seem rather confused," said Clare gravely.