"Of course he isn’t," Robert hastened to say. "Then stop making horrid comparisons. It is such an easy thing to do. Suppose I were to say that you are like an X-ray machine, finding out all that is bad in people, while Claude is like a magnet drawing out all that is good in them. What would you say to that comparison?" "I should accept it," replied Robert, with a smile. "The superiority of the X-ray in point of social usefulness is, I think, beyond dispute." "Oh, with you social usefulness is everything, and personal happiness nothing!" "Suppose Claude is a magnet," he went on, unheeding her exclamation. "Is that a good reason for flying into his arms, like a willless iron filing, on _his_ terms instead of on your own?" "On my terms! What do you mean?" "Janet, my friendship will be worse than useless to you unless I can tell you exactly what is in my mind. I either do that or hold my peace forever. Will you let me speak frankly?" "Will I let the rain fall or the sun shine? I’d like to see the person who could stop you from speaking frankly. But please don’t attack Claude." "Have no fear. I don’t intend to play the part of the heroine’s second friend confidentially warning her against the first. What I want to urge, with all the force I can, is this: if you mean to live with Claude, why not marry him?" "Quite apart from my own preferences in the matter, Robert, how do you know that Claude wants to marry?" "Oh, no doubt he doesn’t want to. In the eyes of the modern man, marriages made in Heaven are as popular as canned beef made in America. But what of that? Claude is young, self-willed, accustomed to get his own way, and—he worships you. And you—well, I have no superlatives to do justice to the case. You are you. You could marry him in a twinkling if you played your cards right." Janet laughed. "Oh, the heart is a free and a fetterless thing—" she sang, saucily. "Stop coquetting like Cornelia," he remonstrated. "You are making it totally impossible for me to talk rationally. Are you a butterfly or a woman? Am I discussing your glorious voice or your precarious future? Be serious." "How can I be serious when you ask me to be a bargain hunter in hearts and coronets?" "Now you’re acting like one of Marie Corelli’s heroines, Janet!" "Thank you. Why are you so anxious to have me get married?" "Because I think that your fine spirit of independence and your divine gift of imagination ought not lightly to be wasted. Because I think, in short, that you have a nobler purpose in the world than mere loving or being loved." "Than mere loving!" "Yes. The world was not made for the gratification of our own feelings." "So you are fond of saying, Robert. But, as a matter of fact, I’m not trying to gratify my feelings. I’m trying to carry out my principles." "The world isn’t a grindstone to sharpen our principles on, either," said Robert, with prompt conclusiveness.