"Upper-world Billingsgate! Cowardice, as an accusation from a woman to a man, is upper-world Billingsgate. But it doesn't matter. Of course I know what it means. Do you think your brother wants me to go away at once?" "At once," she said. "That would be disagreeable and absurd. You mean to sit to me for that head?" "Certainly not." "I cannot in the least understand why not. What has a question of art to do with marriage or giving in marriage? And why should Mrs. Docimer be so angry with me, when she has known the truth all along?" "There are questions which it is of no avail to answer. I have come out with you now because I thought it well that we should have a final opportunity of understanding each other. You understand me at any rate." "Perfectly," he said. "You have taken especial care on this occasion to make yourself intelligible." "So I intended. And as you do understand me, and know how far I am from approving your philosophy, you can hardly wish to remain with us longer." Then they walked on together in absolute silence for above a mile. They had come out of the wood, and were descending, by a steep and narrow path, to the village in which stood the hotel at which the party was staying. Another ten minutes would take them down to the high road. The path here ran by the side of a rivulet, the course of which was so steep that the waters made their way down in a succession of little cataracts. From the other side of the path was a fence, so close to it, that on this particular spot there was room only for one to walk. Here Frank Houston stepped in front of his companion, so as to stop her. "Imogene," he said, "if it is intended that I am to start by the diligence for Innspruck this evening, you had better bid me farewell at once." "I have bidden you farewell," she said. "Then you have done it in so bitter a mood that you had better try your hand at it again. Heaven only knows in what manner you or I may meet again." "What does it matter?" she asked. "I have always felt that the hearts of men are softer than the hearts of women. A woman's hand is soft, but she can steel her heart when she thinks it necessary, as no man can do. Does it occur to you at this moment that there has been some true affection between you and me in former days?" "I wish it did not." "It may be so that I wish it also; but there is the fact. No wishing will enable me to get rid of it. No wishing will save me from the memory of early dreams and sweet longings and vain triumphs. There is the remembrance of bright glory made very sad to me by the meanness of the existing truth. I do not say but that I would obliterate it if I could; but it is not to be obliterated; the past will not be made more pleasant to me by any pretence of present indignation. I should have thought that it would have been the same with you." "There has been no glory," she said, "though I quite acknowledge the meanness." "There has been at any rate some love."