Happening upon this fairy tale--as every woman must--had come Sally Bishop. It would seem a foolish thing to think that Apsley Manor, in the county of Buckinghamshire, should play a part in so great a change in the life of any human being; it would seem strange to believe that out of a two hours' acquaintance could arise the beginning of a whole life's desire; yet in the fairy story of romance, all such things are possible; nay, they are even the circumstances that one expects. When she walked out along the river-side that evening with Mr. Arthur, there was an unreasoning content in her mind. The lights from the bridge danced for her in the black water, reflecting the lightness of her heart. She was in that pleasant attitude of mind--poised--like a diver on a summer day, before he plunges into the glittering green water. A few more days, another meeting, and she knew that she would be immersed--deeply in love. Now she toyed with it, held the moment at arm's length, and let her eyes feast on the seeming voluptuous certainty of it. And when Mr. Arthur began the long preface to the point towards which his mind was set, it sounded distant, aloof, as the monotonous voice of a priest, chanting dull prayers in an empty church, must sound in the ears of one whose whole soul is struggling to lift to a communion with God Himself. "I only want to know if you have made up your mind?" he said, when he had finished his preamble. "Yes, Mr. Arthur, I have." "You can't?" He took the note in her voice. It rang there in answer to the apprehension that was already in his mind. "No, I can't." "Why not?" "The same reason I gave you before." "You don't love me?" "No; I'm sorry, but I don't." "That'll come," he tried to say with confidence. She thought he was really sure of it; but instead of being angry, she felt sorry for him. He hoped for that--he had every right to hope--but oh, he little realized how impossible it was--how utterly, absolutely impossible it was now. There is no rate of exchange for Romance in the heart of a woman; she gives her whole soul for it, and nothing but Romance will she take in return. "It's no good saying that," she replied; "things don't come when you expect them to. It surely can't be right for people to marry when they are only hoping that one of them may love the other." "But you seem to forget the position I'm offering you," he said. "Is that no inducement?" "No; I'm not forgetting it. But do you think position is everything to a woman?" "No; but she likes a home." "Then why do you think I gave up mine?" "I didn't know you had given it up. I thought you had been compelled to earn your living." "No; not at all. My father was a clergyman down in Kent. He only died last year. My mother still lives there and my two sisters. I could have a home there if I wished to go back to it." He looked at her in a little amazement. "I suppose I don't understand women," he said genuinely.