"I know nothing. But yes--I do know that you are going to--Tarascon." "I shall not go if you will permit what I have asked." "Isn't it rather suddenly planned?" she said, ironically. "You did not know we were coming." "Very suddenly. I have thought of it only since yesterday." They had strolled into a narrow path which led by one of those patches of underwood of which there are several in the Cascine--little bosky places carefully preserved in a tangled wildness which is so pretty and amusing to American eyes, accustomed to the stretch of real forests. "You don't know how I love these little patches," said Miss Stowe. "There is such a good faith about them; they are charming." "You were always fond of nature, I remember. I used to tell you that art was better." "Ah! did you?" she said, her eyes following the flight of a bird. "You have forgotten very completely in one year." "Yes, I think I have. I always forget, you know, what it is not agreeable to remember. But I must go back; Aunt Ruth will be waiting." They turned. "I will speak more plainly," said Morgan. "I went to England during July last--that is, I followed Mrs. Lovell. She was in Devonshire. Quite recently I have learned that she has become engaged in--Devonshire, and is soon to be married there. I am naturally rather down about it. I am seeking some other interest. I should like to try your plan for a while, and build up an interest in--you." Miss Stowe's lip curled. "The plans are not alike," she said. "Yours is badly contrived. _I_ did not tell _you_ beforehand what I was endeavoring to do!" "I am obliged to tell you. You would have discovered it." "Discovered what a pretence it was? That is true. A woman can act a part better than a man. _You_ did not discover! And what am I to do in this little comedy of yours?" "Nothing. It is, in truth, nothing to you; you have told me that, even when you made a great effort towards that especial object, it was impossible to get up the slightest interest in me. Do not take a violent dislike to me; that is all." "And if it is already taken?" "I shall have to conquer that. What I meant was--do not take a fresh one." "There is nothing like precedent, and therefore I repeat your question: what if you should succeed--I mean as regards yourself?" she said, looking at him with a satirical expression. "It is my earnest wish to succeed." "You do not add, as I did, that in case you do succeed you will of course never see me again, but that at least the miserable old feeling will be at rest?" "I do not add it." "And at the conclusion, when it has failed, shall you tell me that the cause of failure was--the inevitable comparisons?" "Beatrice is extremely lovely," he replied, turning his head and gazing at the Arno, shining through an opening in the hedge. "I do not attempt to pretend, even to myself, that she is not the loveliest woman I ever knew." "Since you do not pretend it to yourself you will not pretend it to me."