Comradeship only, he believed, for he did not, in any usual sense of the word, love her. She had become a quiet, steadying, soothing influence, a mental support and sedative. It was not her strange, placid comeliness that appealed to him; it was not the feminine in her: she was almost to him what a man friend would be, save that, as a woman, he had to treat her with respect, and with self-respect. She had not come between him and his wife, but, on the contrary, by complementing her deficiencies, had made her the longer endurable. He had grown accustomed during the last few months to her companionship; he had not, indeed, talked much to her, or in any degree sought her confidence, but her mere presence had acted soothingly upon him; and to be with her had been restful and pacifying. Her return to her brother’s house would practically mean that she would go out of his life, except for occasional visits and meetings. But he could think of no compelling reason that he could urge for her staying longer with them, and, as she had accused him of being, he was well aware of her firmness in carrying out any decision to which she had come. He had been accustomed to having his own way with those around him, but instead of irritating him, it added to his respect and admiration for her, to find that what she thought right to do, she would do, and that no persuasion of his could move or stay her. “Tell me why you are going?” he asked, as they turned to go homeward, and faced the eager wind. “And why you think that Aggy doesn’t care so much for you as she used to do?” “If I were a man I suppose I should be expected to give a reason for my doings. But you see, I’m a mere woman, and of course act on impulse.” “Not at all a mere woman. And much too clever, not to know that generalizations are always untrue. I conclude that a man’s an ignorant ass when he says that something or other is ‘just like a woman.’ Though it is rather like a woman to avoid answering a question by making an aimless remark. Why are you going home?” “Why should I have stayed so long? Why shouldn’t I go away? Why—why—lots of ‘whys.’” “Don’t you enjoy being with us?” “Of course I do,” she answered, no sign of the pain the question caused her showing in her tone, though she ached to be able to tell him how exquisite was the torture to which he was putting her. “Of course I do. I _did_ think you knew that; you’re not the sort of man who needs to be told everything every day.” “Well, I won’t make use of an old friend’s privilege of worrying you. But, look here, when’ll you come to see us again?” “When Aggy asks me, if she doesn’t ask me too soon.”