Beatrice | Page 9

about mathematics.
They work everything to a fixed conclusion that must result. Life is not
like that; what ought to be a square comes out a right angle, and /x/
always equals an unknown quantity, which is never ascertained till you
are dead."
"Good gracious!" thought Geoffrey to himself between the strokes of
the paddle, "what an extraordinary girl. A flesh-and-blood blue-
stocking, and a lovely one into the bargain. At any rate I will bowl her
out this time."
"Perhaps you have read law too?" he said with suppressed sarcasm.
"I have read some," she answered calmly. "I like law, especially Equity
law; it is so subtle, and there is such a mass of it built upon such a small
foundation. It is like an overgrown mushroom, and the top will fall off
one day, however hard the lawyers try to prop it up. Perhaps you can
tell me----"
"No, I'm sure I cannot," he answered. "I'm not a Chancery man. I am
Common law, and /I/ don't take all knowledge for /my/ province. You
positively alarm me, Miss Granger. I wonder that the canoe does not
sink beneath so much learning."
"Do I?" she answered sweetly. "I am glad that I have lived to frighten
somebody. I meant that I like Equity to study; but if I were a barrister, I
would be Common law, because there is so much more life and
struggle about it. Existence is not worth having unless one is struggling
with something and trying to overcome it."
"Dear me, what a reposeful prospect," said Geoffrey, aghast. He had
certainly never met such a woman as this before.
"Repose is only good when it is earned," went on the fair philosopher,
"and in order to fit one to earn some more, otherwise it becomes
idleness, and that is misery. Fancy being idle when one has such a little
time to live. The only thing to do is to work and stifle thought. I
suppose that you have a large practice, Mr. Bingham?"

"You should not ask a barrister that question," he answered, laughing;
"it is like looking at the pictures which an artist has turned to the wall.
No, to be frank, I have not. I have only taken to practising in earnest
during the last two years. Before I was a barrister in name, and that is
all."
"Then why did you suddenly begin to work?"
"Because I lost my prospects, Miss Granger--from necessity, in short."
"Oh, I beg your pardon!" she said, with a blush, which of course he
could not see. "I did not mean to be rude. But it is very lucky for you, is
it not?"
"Indeed! Some people don't think so. Why is it lucky?"
"Because you will now rise and become a great man, and that is more
than being a rich man."
"And why do you think that I shall become a great man?" he asked,
stopping paddling in his astonishment and looking at the dim form
before him.
"Oh! because it is written on your face," she answered simply.
Her words rang true; there was no flattery or artifice in them. Geoffrey
felt that the girl was saying just what she thought.
"So you study physiognomy as well," he said. "Well, Miss Granger, it
is rather odd, considering all things, but I will say to you what I have
never said to any one before. I believe that you are right. I shall rise. If I
live I feel that I have it in me."
At this point it possibly occurred to Beatrice that, considering the
exceeding brevity of their acquaintance, they were drifting into
somewhat confidential conversation. At any rate, she quickly changed
the topic.
"I am afraid you are growing tired," she said; "but we must be getting

on. It will soon be quite dark and we have still a long way to go. Look
there," and she pointed seaward.
He looked. The whole bank of mist was breaking up and bearing down
on them in enormous billows of vapour. Presently, these were rolling
over them, so darkening the heavy air that, though the pair were within
four feet of each other, they could scarcely see one another's faces. As
yet they felt no wind. The dense weight of mist choked the keen,
impelling air.
"I think the weather is breaking; we are going to have a storm," said
Beatrice, a little anxiously.
Scarcely were the words out of her mouth when the mist passed away
from them, and from all the seaward expanse of ocean. Not a wrack of
it was left, and in its place the strong sea-breath beat upon their faces.
Far in the west the angry disc of the sun was sinking into the foam. A
great red ray shot from