character and had arrived at the confident conclusion that absolute unselfishness formed its most distinctive feature. Nor was he at all shaken in this opinion by the fact that when a little later on he informed her of the nature of his sentiments towards her, he found that she agreed with him in thinking that his then income was not enough to marry upon, and that they had better wait until the death of an uncle of his from whom he had expectations. I felt rather curious to know what passed at the interview between them, and questioned him on the subject.
"As to this objection on the ground of the insufficiency of your income, did it come from you," I asked, "or from her?"
"What a question," said Basil, contemptuously. "From me of course."
"But at once?"
"How do you mean, at once?"
"Well, was there any interval between your telling her you loved her and your adding that you did not think you were well enough off to marry just at present?"
"Any interval? No, of course not. It would have been obviously unfair and ungenerous on my part to have made her a declaration of love without at the same time adding that I could not ask her to share my present poverty and———"
"Oh," I interrupted, "you said that at the same time, did you? Then she had nothing to do but to agree?
"Well, no, of course not," said Basil. "But, my dear fellow," he continued, with his usual half-pitying smile, "you don't see the point. The point is, that she agreed reluctantly—indeed with quite obvious reluctance."
"Did she press you to reconsider your decision?"
"Well, no, she could hardly do that, you know. It would not be quite consistent with maidenly reserve and so forth. But
