"It isn't a question of _meaning_ anything," I replied. "The experiences of this week-end have put the whole social question in a new light for me. I could never go back, now, to the old life. My conscience would always be reproaching me, if I did." "But if you're rich, and feel like that, oughn't you to shoulder your responsibilities?" she asked. "Do something? Wouldn't it be rather like running away to give your money to the hospitals and go to Canada to work on a farm?" "That's my present impulse," I said. "And I mean to follow it. I don't know that I shall want to stay in Canada for the rest of my life. I may see further developments after I've been there for a few years. But..." "Go on," she urged me. "But I want to--to stay near you--all of you. I can't tell you how I admire your father and mother and Arthur and--all of you. And you see, I admit that this conversion of mine has been very sudden. I--I want to learn." "Do you always follow your impulses like this?" she put in. "I've never had one worth following before," I said. "What about wanting to fight Frank Jervaise?" she asked. "And running away from the Hall? And suddenly taking Arthur's side in the row? and all those things? Didn't you follow your impulses, then?" And yet, it had never before occurred to me that I was impulsive. I had imagined myself to be self-controlled, rather business-like, practical. I was frankly astonished at this new light on my character. "I suppose I did, in a way," I admitted doubtfully. "To say nothing of..." she began, and stopped with a little, rather embarrassed laugh. "Of what?" I urged her. "How many times before have you imagined yourself to be head over ears in love?" she asked. I was repaid in that moment for all the self-denials and fastidious shrinkings of my youth. "Never once!" I acclaimed triumphantly. "It's the one common experience that has passed me by. I've often wondered why I could never fall in love. I've admired any number of women. I've tried to fall in love with them. And I have never been able to, try as I would. I could deceive myself about other things, but never about that. Now, I know why." I waited for her encouragement, but as she did not speak I went on with more hesitation. "You'll think me a romantic fool, I suppose, if I tell you why?"