"Well, I suppose I am material. I like facts and solid things." "And yet you spoke of dreamland once not so very long ago--do you remember!" "Yes--but you do not know that this dreamland of mine may not be a place where wished-for facts and solid things appear realities, not fancies." "You would not tell me if I asked you; I recollect how you eluded me before, and said it was a place which only admitted yourself." "Even materialists must have some corner where they can be alone." Then he questioned her.--How had she learned all that she knew?--And his interest did not diminish when she gave him a brief outline of the manner of her education. "It was very difficult sometimes, because I never had anyone with whom to talk, and one grows one-sided _if_ one has only oneself to argue with, and I don't really know how to pronounce numbers of words. I should be grateful if you would tell me every time I make a mistake." "It is quite evident that we must ratify this compact that I shall be your tutor, though I am to get no wages--even love!" "Who would be supposed to give the love?" Her strange eyes glanced at him provokingly for a second, and then resumed their steady look. He was quite uncertain as to whether in this there lay a challenge.--He proceeded to act as if there did. "When I come up to give my first lesson I will tell you all about the giving--and taking--of love." "That would be of no advantage to either of us. Love is a thing which can cause only pain." "You are quite mistaken--it is the only divine joy in this unsatisfactory world." Her face changed; she felt this was cruelly true--and she did not wish to be reminded of the fact. "You shall only come to the schoolroom if you talk sense. I will not listen to a word of speculation about love; it is pure waste of time--but in any case I do not see how you can come there at all. I would not receive you without Her Ladyship's permission--it was very kind of her to let me have this afternoon." "What a circumspect darling!" Miss Bush looked at him with scorn. "I am not a darlings--I am a lower middle class young woman, trying to learn how to be a lady, and whatever you think, if you want to be with me, you will have to treat me as if I had arrived at my goal already." "I think you have, but the greatest ladies are often darlings." "Yes, but married men do not tell them so, on very short acquaintance, Mr. Strobridge." In his case he felt this was rather true, since he never spoke to girls at all if he could help it. He suddenly wondered in what light he really did consider her?--As an abstract and quite adorably provoking woman, he supposed. "Is there anything else to be written down?" she asked. She had become the conventional secretary. "Because if not, I must go back to my work." "My aunt gave me full permission to keep you for two hours. I told her all we had to do would take quite that time." "Well, you see it has not--we have come to the end of the gallery."