'Some time next week. The day is not yet fixed.' 'Elsie Laurence and Cissy Clive are going?' 'Yes.... Why don't you come too?' 'I wish I could. I can't. I have no money.' 'But I can lend you what you want. I have more than I require. Let me lend you a hundred pounds. Do.' Ralph smiled through his red moustache, and his grey gentle eyes smiled too, a melancholy little smile that passed quickly. 'It is very kind of you. But it would be impossible for me to borrow money from you. Even if I had the money, I could hardly go with you.' 'Why not, there's a party. Walter is going, and Hopwood Blunt is going. I'm the fifth wheel.' Ralph was about to say something, but he checked himself; he never spoke ill of any one. So, putting his criticism of her companions aside, he said: 'Only under one condition could I go abroad with you. You know, Mildred, I love you.' An expression of pleasure came upon her face, and, seeing it, he threw his arms out to draw her closer. She drew away. 'You shrink from me.... I suppose I'm too rough. You could never care for me.' 'Yes, indeed, Ralph, I do care for you. I like you very much indeed, but not like that.' 'You could not like me enough to marry me.' 'I don't think I could marry any one.' 'Why not?' 'I don't know.' 'Do you care for any one else?' 'No, indeed I don't. I like you very much. I want you to be my friend.... But you don't understand. Men never do. I suppose affection would not satisfy you.' 'But you could not marry me?' 'I'd sooner marry you than any one. But---' 'But what?' Mildred told the story of her engagement, and how in the end she had been forced to break it off. 'And you think if you engaged yourself to me it might end in the same way?' 'Yes. And I would not cause you pain. Forgive me.' 'But if you never intend to marry, what do you intend to do?' 'There are other things to do surely.' 'What?' 'There's art.' 'Art!' 'You think I shall not succeed with my painting?' 'No. I did not mean that. I hope you will. But painting is very difficult. I've found it so. It seems hopeless.' 'You think I shall be a failure? You think that I'd better remain at home and marry than go to France and study?' 'It's impossible to say who will succeed. I only know it is very difficult--too difficult for me.... Women never have succeeded in painting.' 'Some have, to a certain extent.' 'But you're not angry, offended at my having spoken?' 'No; I hope we shall always be friends. You know that I like you very much.' 'Then why not, why not be engaged? It will give you time to consider, to find out if you could.' 'But, you see, I've broken off one engagement, so that I might be free to devote myself to painting.'