She told him briefly and coldly the substance of the doctor’s opinion, but without any hint of his last suggestion except the vague information that the pair had better go abroad. Then she walked briskly on in the direction of the Fort, and to Clarence’s meek request for permission to accompany her, she gave the most brusque, most chilling answer that he could “do as he pleased.” Of course he pleased to go, and when they got on to the narrow footpath which is only wide enough for one, he followed with tears in his eyes at the change in her, wondering what in the world had happened to make her so unkind to him. Meanwhile, however, an idea had come into her busy little head which helped the effect of the spring air in restoring her to good humour; so that when she stopped to look reflectively out to sea and caught sight of his disconsolate face, she smiled at him with mingled mercy and majesty and asked him why he looked so miserable. “I’m not miserable now,” said he, brightening up at once. “It was only that I was afraid you didn’t want me.” Ella grew prim again. “It is very kind of you to come,” said she. “Ella, don’t say that. How can you say that, when you know very well how happy it makes me to be with you!” “Happy! How absurd! I wish, Clarence, you wouldn’t say such ridiculous things.” “But, Ella, why is it ridiculous? It’s true, you know it’s true. You know very well I would follow you to the end of the world if you’d let me, that I’d do anything you wanted me to, that I’m never so happy as when I’m with you. Well, why is it ridiculous to say what is true and what you know?” “But I don’t want to know it,” said Ella sharply. “If I had thought you would ever talk to me in such a silly way I would never have let you come out with me. When I’m thinking about serious things, too!” “Can’t you see that this is serious to me?” “It’s only all the more ridiculous. You must either promise never to talk such nonsense to me again, or you must give up the walks.” “Very well, then, I must give up the walks,” said Clarence resignedly, “for I can’t make the promise.”