He looked a little startled. "But that's what I work to be," he said; "surely to fill up breaches and gaps, and lend a hand to any needing help, is not inhuman?" "I'd like to see you do a really selfish thing for once in your life," said Adrienne impetuously. "I'm doing one now," he responded quickly. "I have a big pile of correspondence on my writing-table waiting to be tackled, and I've let it go hang, because I wanted a walk with you." Adrienne laughed lightly. Then he asked, with some interest in his tone: "And does this fellow who's written to you live at the Château?" "No, I think not. He comes and goes, and spends most of his time when there at a farm near. I don't know him at all. I have never seen him." "Is he a married man?" "I don't think so. He may be. I really don't know. He has made over the Château to my aunt. I know that. I believe he's a wanderer by nature. He loves travelling." There was silence for a moment, then Godfrey said: "Adrienne, when will you let me speak to you seriously?" "Oh, Godfrey, please—not yet—I don't like to say never, but I want nothing to spoil our pleasant friendship. I don't want you to break it into a thousand pieces!" "I've been waiting about two years since I last spoke to you." There was a hint of patient resignation in his tone. Adrienne laid her hand softly on his coat-sleeve. "I should so love to see you become engaged to some nice girl," she said. "You ought to marry and have a home of your own." He shook his head, but did not speak. For a few moments they walked on in silence, then Adrienne broke it: "Look here, Godfrey. Let us have it out. It will be best. Do you know what I think about you? You like grooves. You think, because we have grown up together, that we're meant to spend our lives together. You're accustomed to go about with me, and we're good chums, and we confide in each other, and so you think you want me altogether; and in spite of what you say, and what you think you feel, I don't believe you've got the right sort of love in your heart for me, and I'm perfectly certain I have not got it for you." Godfrey was so taken aback that he stood still and stared at her. "What kind of love are you looking for?" he asked her a little breathlessly. Adrienne looked a little shamefaced and confused; then she plucked up her courage, for she was nothing if she was not courageous. "I'm going to probe deeply," she said; "and if I hurt you, it's only for your good. I know some girls are satisfied, as they may well be, by a good man's quiet unemotional affection—well—love, as you would say. But I'm not like that. I want to be carried off my feet, thrilled; I want to feel that I care for nothing and nobody in the wide world but the one who is beside me. That I would follow him to suffering or to death with the greatest possible joy. Now do I feel that for you, and do you truthfully feel that for me?"