'My friend and schoolmate, Selina Collett, comes to me at Whitsuntide. We have taken a house on the Upper Thames, above Marlow. You will come and see us, if you can be persuaded to leave your boys. We have a boathouse, and a bathing-plank for divers. The stream is quiet there between rich meadows. It seems to flow as if it thought. I am not poetical; I tell you only my impression. You shall be a great deal by yourself, as men prefer to be.' 'As men are forced to be--I beg!' said he. 'Division is against my theories.' 'We might help, if we understood one another, I have often fancied. I know something of your theories. I should much like to hear you some day on the scheme of the school in Switzerland, and also on the schoolmaster's profession. She whom we have lost was full of it, and spoke of it to me as much as her weakness would permit. The subject seemed to give her strength.' 'She has always encouraged me,' said Weyburn.' I have lost her, but I shall feel that she is not absent. She had ideas of her own about men and women.' 'Some she mentioned.' 'And about marriage?' 'That too.' Aminta shook herself out of a sudden stupor. 'Her mind was very clear up to the last hour upon all the subjects interesting her son. She at one time regretted his not being a soldier, for the sake of his father's memory. Then she learned to think he could do more for the world as the schoolmaster. She said you can persuade.' 'We had our talks. She would have the reason, if she was to be won. I like no other kind of persuasion.' 'I long to talk over the future school with you. That is, to hear your plans.' They were at the foot of the hill, in view of an inn announcing livery stables. She wished to walk the whole distance. He shook his head. The fly was ready for her soon, and he begged to see her safe home. She refused, after taking her seat, but said: 'At any other time. We are old friends. You will really go through the ceremony of consulting me about the school?' He replied: 'I am honoured.' 'Ah, not to me,' said Aminta. 'We will be the friends we--You will not be formal with me?--not from this day?' She put out her hand. He took it gently. The dead who had drawn them together withheld a pressure. Holding the hand, he said: 'I shall crave leave of absence for some days.' 'I shall see you on the day,' said she. 'If it is your desire: I will send word.' 'We both mourn at heart. We should be in company. Adieu.' Their hands fell apart. They looked. The old school time was in each mind. They saw it as a shore-bank in grey outline across morning mist. Years were between; and there was a division of circumstance, more repelling than an abyss or the rush of deep wild waters. Neither of them had regrets. Under their cloud, and with the grief they shared, they were as happy as two could be in recovering one another as friends.