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discussed and criticised the stories of novels； scraps of history；
pictures； social questions； socialism； the policy of the Government。
She was young and most unevenly informed； but she was amazingly
sharp and quick and good。 Never before in my life had I known a
girl of her age； or a woman of her quality。 I had never dreamt
there was such talk in the world。 Kinghamstead became a lightless
place when she went to Oxford。 Heaven knows how much that may not
have precipitated my abandonment of the seat！
She went to Ridout College； Oxford； and that certainly weighed with
me when presently after my breach with the Liberals various little
undergraduate societies began to ask for lectures and discussions。
I favoured Oxford。 I declared openly I did so because of her。 At
that time I think we neither of us suspected the possibility of
passion that lay like a coiled snake in the path before us。 It
seemed to us that we had the quaintest； most delightful friendship
in the world； she was my pupil； and I was her guide； philosopher；
and friend。 People smiled indulgentlyeven Margaret smiled
indulgentlyat our attraction for one another。
Such friendships are not uncommon nowadaysamong easy…going；
liberal…minded people。 For the most part； there's no sort of harm；
as people say； in them。 The two persons concerned are never
supposed to think of the passionate love that hovers so close to the
friendship； or if they do； then they banish the thought。 I think we
kept the thought as permanently in exile as any one could do。 If it
did in odd moments come into our heads we pretended elaborately it
wasn't there。
Only we were both very easily jealous of each other's attention； and
tremendously insistent upon each other's preference。
I remember once during the Oxford days an intimation that should
have set me thinking； and I suppose discreetly disentangling myself。
It was one Sunday afternoon； and it must have been about May； for
the trees and shrubs of Ridout College were gay with blossom； and
fresh with the new sharp greens of spring。 I had walked talking
with Isabel and a couple of other girls through the wide gardens of
the place； seen and criticised the new brick pond； nodded to the
daughter of this friend and that in the hammocks under the trees；
and picked a way among the scattered tea…parties on the lawn to our
own circle on the grass under a Siberian crab near the great bay
window。 There I sat and ate great quantities of cake； and discussed
the tactics of the Suffragettes。 I had made some comments upon the
spirit of the movement in an address to the men in Pembroke； and it
had got abroad； and a group of girls and women dons were now having
it out with me。
I forget the drift of the conversation； or what it was made Isabel
interrupt me。 She did interrupt me。 She bad been lying prone on
the ground at my right hand； chin on fists； listening thoughtfully；
and I was sitting beside old Lady Evershead on a garden seat。 I
turned to Isabel's voice； and saw her face uplifted； and her dear
cheeks and nose and forehead all splashed and barred with sunlight
and the shadows of the twigs of the trees behind me。 And something
an infinite tenderness； stabbed me。 It was a keen physical
feeling； like nothing I had ever felt before。 It had a quality of
tears in it。 For the first time in my narrow and concentrated life
another human being had really thrust into my being and gripped my
very heart。
Our eyes met perplexed for an extraordinary moment。 Then I turned
back and addressed myself a little stiffly to the substance of her
intervention。 For some time I couldn't look at her again。
From that time forth I knew I loved Isabel beyond measure。
Yet it is curious that it never occurred to me for a year or so that
this was likely to be a matter of passion between us。 I have told
how definitely I put my imagination into harness in those matters at
my marriage； and I was living now in a world of big interests； where
there is neither much time nor inclination for deliberate love…
making。 I suppose there is a large class of men who never meet a
girl or a woman without thinking of sex； who meet a friend's
daughter and decide： 〃Mustn't get friendly with herwouldn't DO；〃
and set invisible bars between themselves and all the wives in the
world。 Perhaps that is the way to live。 Perhaps there is no other
method than this effectual annihilation of halfand the most
sympathetic and attractive halfof the human beings in the world；
so far as any frank intercourse is concerned。 I am quite convinced
anyhow that such a qualified intimacy as ours； such a drifting into
the sense of possession； such untrammeled conversation with an
invisible； implacable limit set just where the intimacy glows； it is
no kind of tolerable compromise。 If men and women are to go so far
together； they must be free to go as far as they may want to go；
without the vindictive destruction that has come upon us。 On the
basis of the accepted codes the jealous people are right； and the
liberal…minded ones are playing with fire。 If people are not to
love； then they must be kept apart。 If they are not to be kept
apart； then we must prepare for an unprecedented toleration of
lovers。
Isabel was as unforeseeing as I to begin with； but sex marches into
the life of an intelligent girl with demands and challenges far more
urgent than the mere call of curiosity and satiable desire that
comes to a young man。 No woman yet has dared to tell the story of
that unfolding。 She attracted men； and she encouraged them； and
watched them； and tested them； and dismissed them； and concealed the
substance of her thoughts about them in the way that seems
instinctive in a natural…minded girl。 There was even an engagement
amidst the protests and disapproval of the college authorities。 I
never saw the man； though she gave me a long history of the affair；
to which I listened with a forced and insincere sympathy。 She
struck me oddly as taking the relationship for a thing in itself；
and regardless of its consequences。 After a time she became silent
about him； and then threw him over； and by that time； I think； for
all that she was so much my junior； she knew more about herself and
me than I was to know for several years to come。
We didn't see each other for some months after my resignation； but
we kept up a frequent correspondence。 She said twice over that she
wanted to talk to me； that letters didn't convey what one wanted to
say； and I went up to Oxford pretty definitely to see herthough I
combined it with one or two other engagementssomewhere in
February。 Insensibly she had become important enough for me to make
journeys for her。
But we didn't see very much of one another on that occasion。 There
was something in the air between us that made a faint embarrassment；
the mere fact； perhaps； that she had asked me to come up。
A year before she would have dashed off with me quite unscrupulously
to talk alone； carried me off to her room for an hour with a minute
of chaperonage to satisfy the rules。 Now there was always some one
or other near us that it seemed impossible to exorcise。
We went for a walk on the Sunday afternoon with old Fortescue； K。
C。； who'd come up to see his two daughters； both great friends of
Isabel's； and some mute inglorious don whose name I forget； but who
was in a state of marked admiration for her。 The six of us played a
game of conversational entanglements throughout； and mostly I was
impressing the Fortescue girls with the want of mental concentration
possible in a rising politician。 We went down Carfex； I remember；
to Folly Bridge； and inspected the Barges； and then back by way of
Merton to the Botanic Gardens and Magdalen Bridge。 And in the
Botanic Gardens she got almost her only chance with me。
〃Last months at Oxford；〃 she said。
〃And then？〃 I asked。
〃I'm coming to London；〃 she said。
〃To write？〃
She was silent for a moment。 Then she said abruptly； with that
quick flush of hers and a sudden boldness in her eyes： 〃I'm going to
work with you。 Why shouldn't I？〃
3
Here； again； I suppose I had a fair warning of the drift of things。
I seem to remember myself in the train to Paddington； sitting with a
handful of papersgalley proofs for the BLUE WEEKLY； I supposeon
my lap； and thinking about her and that last sentence of hers； and
all that it might mean to me。
It is very hard to recall even the main outline of anything so
elusive as a meditation。 I know that the idea of working with her
gripped me； fascinated me。 That my value in her life seemed growing
filled me with pride and a kind of gratitude。 I was already in no
doubt that her value in my life was tremendous。 It made it