"You're so intense!" said Godfrey, flushing under his tanned skin. "I'm not excitable by temperament; but I think my love would wear better and endure longer than those passionate heroics." "I dare say they sound childish to you," said Adrienne quietly, "but I am made that way. I cannot help it. I must be intense. I must feel to the bottom of my heart, when realities come into my life. I'm afraid, Godfrey, I've a turbulent soul, and I welcome storms rather than stagnation." "Would life with me be stagnation?" asked Godfrey. "I thought you were a contented soul. You enjoy your quiet life with your uncles." "I do—I do—And that is why I would not exchange it for another similar one. Marriage means a big, mysterious thing to me." "You put me in the same category as your good uncles. Do you know you are being rather cruel to me this morning?" Adrienne sighed. "I don't mean to be, but I feel I should like things to be quite settled between us, and not, I fear, as you wish. I want you as a friend, a good comrade; but I can give you nothing more than faithful friendship, Godfrey, and I am more certain of it now than two years ago, when you first spoke to me." "Is this your final and determined decision?" Godfrey asked slowly and gravely. "Yes, I am afraid it is." And, to her annoyance, great tears rose to her eyes. Godfrey gave her a fleeting glance. Then he braced himself. "I am not going to make you sad upon such a lovely morning," he said. "I will accept your answer like a man, and won't bother you any more. Let us talk of other things. We won't let our friendship go; and if you want help at any time, you know that I'll do my utmost for you." "You're too good for me, and that's the fact," said Adrienne ruefully; "but I do believe that the day will come when you will feel glad that my answer is what it is. And I'm sure there's another much nicer girl than I, who will make you happy." He did not reply, and as they were now nearing the farm they began to talk of the nurse who had been with both the Chestertons and Sutherlands for the greater part of her life. No one would have thought, as they sat a little later by the old woman's bed, that there had been such a momentous conversation between them. Adrienne was always at her best when with the village folk. Godfrey's gaze was sombre, his eyes rarely left her face, but he showed no discomposure as he talked and even laughed with his old nurse. And then suddenly she turned to him: "Well, sir, when are you going to take yourself a wife? 'Tis what we all expect from you." "You must wait a bit, Nannie; wives are not to be picked up so easily." "You mean you're not so easily pleased?" "We'll leave it at that." He refused to be drawn, but Adrienne felt and looked very uncomfortable. As they rose to go away, the old woman said: