He covered his eyes with one hand and looked through his fingers at her face, asking himself by what transition he could best arrive at a frank exposition of his embarrassed sentiments. It seemed to him that she was intelligent as well as trustworthy, and he felt impelled to call in her assistance, being sure that, in any cause where love could be pleaded, she would show a judicious leniency. "If you have not observed that I am still--too interested, you have not observed with your usual sagacity," said he. "I think--if I may say so--that time seems only to deepen a sorrow of that kind." "Particularly when it is associated--as in this case--with a certain self-reproach. In times of trial my pen is my refuge. I could not write for a year after I had decided--irrevocably as I believed--that Sara and I could not make each other happy." "Then you never actually proposed to her? There was never any tacit understanding?" "Never. And if there be any part of my conduct in life upon which I can look with entire satisfaction, it is my behaviour with regard to Sara. I did not mislead her in any way. I was even over-scrupulous, and purposely avoided opportunities of meeting. I say this in order that you may know how very determined a man's will must be--if he does not wish to be selfish. A course of struggling is miserable indeed. I spared her any knowledge of my misery." "She might have been happier had she known of it! Last year she remained entirely alone; and solitude is full of bad things--it is very dangerous, however much one is accustomed to it." "Poor girl! But I could not, in honour, suffer a false impression to be formed. As a matter of fact, my family wouldn't hear of the match. There is no denying that they were set on my marrying Agnes." At last he had been able to mention her. He leant back and relied on his companion's tact to elaborate the theme. Pensée murmured-- "Dear Agnes! If there are storms, they won't come from her side. She is of a very elevated spirit----" He winced, but she continued-- "Generous, sternly honest, greatly esteemed by every one. Neither pique nor passion nor petty feelings could ever influence her mind. She is the most angelic, good woman I ever met--she is one to whom one may complain, and be a bore. She has such utter patience!" "You would not be impressed by professions, nor am I very clever at making them," said he, "but you know, by sympathy, that my affection for her is--is the heroic feeling of devotion which has also a kind of exclusiveness----" He could not finish the sentence.