"He wants me to give up everything, and go to him," she said; "but he would not accept my consent until he had explained, and made me understand exactly what I was doing. 'The world will consider it an immoral thing,' he said, 'and so it would be if the arrangement were not to be permanent. But any contract which men and women hold to be binding on themselves should be sufficient now, and will be sufficient again, as it used to be in the old days, provided we can show good cause why any previous contract should be broken. You must believe that. You must be thoroughly satisfied now. For if your conscience were to trouble you afterwards--your troublesome conscience which keeps you busy regretting nearly everything you do, but never warns you in time to stop you--if you were to have any scruples, then there would be no peace for either of us, and you had better give me up at once.'" "And what did you say, Ideala?" "I said, perhaps I had. I was beginning to be frightened again." "And how did it end?" "He made me go home and consider." "Yes. And what then?" I demanded impatiently. "And next day he came to me--to know my decision--and--and--I was satisfied. I cannot live without him." I groaned aloud. What was I to say? What could I do? An arrangement of this sort is carefully concealed, as a rule, by the people concerned, and denied if discovered; but here were a lady and gentleman prepared, not only to take the step, but to justify it--under somewhat peculiar circumstances, certainly--and carefully making their friends acquainted with their intention beforehand, as if it were an ordinary engagement. I knew Ideala, and could understand her being over-persuaded. Something of the kind was what I had always feared for her. But, Lorrimer--what sort of a man was he? I own that I was strongly prejudiced against him from the moment she pronounced his name, and all she had told me of him subsequently only confirmed the prejudice. "Why was he not there that day to receive you?" I asked at last. "I don't know," she said. "I quite forgot about that. And I suppose he forgot too," she added, "since he never told me." "Oh, Ideala!" I exclaimed, "how like you that is! It is most important that you should know whether he intended to slight you on that occasion or not. It is the key to his whole action in this matter." "But supposing he did mean to be rude? I should have to forgive him, you know, because I have been rude to him--often. He does not approve of my conduct always, by any means," she placidly assured me. "And does he, of all people in the world, presume to sit in judgment on you?" I answered, indignantly. "I always thought _you_ the most extraordinary person in the world, Ideala, until I heard of this-- _gentleman_." "Hush!" she protested, as if I had blasphemed. "You must not speak of him like that. He _is_ a gentleman--as true and loyal as you are yourself. And he is everything to me."