And in his hotel room he brooded over the state of affairs until his
thoughts took a very gloomy tinge indeed. To begin with, in spite
of his mother's assurance, he had no faith in his own cause. His
acquaintance with Carroll was but an affair of months, and their
actual meetings comprised incredibly few days. Orde was naturally
humble-minded. It did not seem conceivable to him that he could win
her without a long courtship. And superadded was the almost
intolerable weight of Carroll's ideas as to her domestic duties.
Although Orde held Mrs. Bishop's exactions in very slight esteem,
and was most sceptical in regard to the disasters that would follow
their thwarting, nevertheless he had to confess to himself that all
Carroll's training, life, the very purity and sweetness of her
disposition lent the situation an iron reality for her. He became
much discouraged.

Nevertheless, at the very moment when he had made up his mind that
it would be utterly useless even to indulge in hope for some years
to come, he spoke. It came about suddenly, and entirely without
premeditation.

The two had escaped for a breath of air late in the evening.
Following the conventions, they merely strolled to the end of the
block and back, always within sight of the house. Fifth Avenue was
gay with illumination and the prancing of horses returning uptown or
down to the Washington Square district. In contrast the side
street, with its austere rows of brownstone houses, each with its
area and flight of steps, its spaced gas lamps, its deserted
roadway, seemed very still and quiet. Carroll was in a tired and
pensive mood. She held her head back, breathing deeply.