(_What is it that_ MISS PHOEBE _begins to see as she sits there so quietly, with her hands pressed together as if upon some treasure? It is_ PHOEBE _of the ringlets with the stain taken out of her._) VALENTINE. And when I returned a week ago and saw Miss Phoebe, grown so tired-looking and so poor---- PHOEBE. The shock made you feel old, I know. VALENTINE. No, Miss Livvy, but it filled me with a sudden passionate regret that I had not gone down in that first engagement. They would have been very comfortably left. PHOEBE. Oh, sir! VALENTINE. I am not calling it love. PHOEBE. It was sweet and kind, but it was not love. VALENTINE. It is love now. PHOEBE. No, it is only pity. VALENTINE. It is love. PHOEBE (_she smiles tremulously_). You really mean Phoebe--tired, unattractive Phoebe, that woman whose girlhood is gone. Nay, impossible. VALENTINE (_stoutly_). Phoebe of the fascinating playful ways, whose ringlets were once as pretty as yours, ma'am. I have visited her in her home several times this week--you were always out--I thank you for that! I was alone with her, and with fragrant memories of her. PHOEBE. Memories! Yes, that is the Phoebe you love, the bright girl of the past--not the schoolmistress in her old-maid's cap. VALENTINE. There you wrong me, for I have discovered for myself that the schoolmistress in her old-maid's cap is the noblest Miss Phoebe of them all. (_If only he would go away, and let_ MISS PHOEBE _cry._) When I enlisted, I remember I compared her to a garden. I have often thought of that. PHOEBE. 'Tis an old garden now. VALENTINE. The paths, ma'am, are better shaded. PHOEBE. The flowers have grown old-fashioned. VALENTINE. They smell the sweeter. Miss Livvy, do you think there is any hope for me? PHOEBE. There was a man whom Miss Phoebe loved--long ago. He did not love her. VALENTINE. Now here was a fool! PHOEBE. He kissed her once. VALENTINE. If Miss Phoebe suffered him to do that she thought he loved her. PHOEBE. Yes, yes. (_She has to ask him the ten years old question._) Do you opinion that this makes her action in allowing it less reprehensible? It has been such a pain to her ever since. VALENTINE. How like Miss Phoebe! (_Sternly._) But that man was a knave. PHOEBE. No, he was a good man--only a little--inconsiderate. She knows now that he has even forgotten that he did it. I suppose men are like that? VALENTINE. No, Miss Livvy, men are not like that. I am a very average man, but I thank God I am not like that. PHOEBE. It was you. VALENTINE (_after a pause_). Did Miss Phoebe say that? PHOEBE. Yes. VALENTINE. Then it is true. (_He is very grave and quiet._) PHOEBE. It was raining and her face was wet. You said you did it because her face was wet. VALENTINE. I had quite forgotten.