Feeding hour was approaching; a furious outburst of roars proclaimed the lions' knowledge of the fact. Mr Maplestone leant his arm on the back of the seat and shouted into my ear:-- "But you know her so well; she has spoken to you. There could be no harm in giving me some hints. Some things might be altered, though others could not. Does she think me an ugly brute?" His face was close to mine. I looked at the blunt features, the clear, healthful tints, and found nothing that offended my eye. As I had realised in Mr Hallett's presence, expression counts for more than mere correctness of outline. I turned aside and shook my head. "The question of appearance does not count. In that respect you have the one qualification which a woman demands." "Which is?" "Manliness--strength. Evelyn would care little for handsome features." He sighed relief. "Disposition then! I made a bad impression at our first meeting. My temper is hasty. I dislike opposition, but if we loved one another we should agree. There would be no opposition." I smiled at his innocence. It is astonishing how guileless these big, strong men can be. I was about to undeceive him, but before I had time to speak the children were back with a rush, dragging at our arms, and demanding to move on. For the next half-hour we had no private conversation, but at the first chance he began once more. "Evelyn has been accustomed to the country. I could give her the life she likes. If she wished it I would take a house in town for the season. To a certain extent I believe in women's rights. I should not interfere with her pursuits. I should want her to be happy in her own way." "Always providing that her husband was the chief consideration, and came before everything else?" "Of course!" he cried loudly. "Why, of course! What else could you expect?" I waved my thick dogskin gloves. "Oh, Mr Maplestone, what is the use of arguing? It all comes back to the one thing. If she loved you the other things would adjust themselves. Without love, without sympathy, all would go wrong." "There is sympathy. She may not realise it, perhaps, but if she thinks, if you ask her to think, she must acknowledge that, in spite of small surface disagreements, our real selves have drawn together, closer and closer. Ask her if she feels to me as she does towards other men? If there seems no difference between us? I know she does not love me--_yet_; but if she gave me my chance, I could make her. No, she would not need to be made. You can at least tell her that." Mr Hallett's words sounded warningly in my ears. I hesitated, weakly compromised. "Yes--I might go so far. She shall hear what you say, and judge for herself. And now we have really talked enough. Suppose we hear your bird for a change?"