Philip Carey’s infatuation with Mildred Rogers turns an unsatisfactory courtship into a test of his judgment, self-respect, and romantic imagination. He recognizes that he is unhappy with her and unhappy away from her, then interprets his need for her presence as love. The attachment grows despite her indifference: he spends beyond his means, tries to make himself indispensable, and eventually proposes, while Mildred evaluates marriage chiefly in terms of whether it would improve her circumstances. Their relationship reveals how completely Philip’s desire can overrule his reason—and how little that desire guarantees in return.

Origins and First Recognition

Mildred’s initial reserve unsettles Philip. After an unsatisfactory evening together, he lies awake thinking about her rather than feeling relieved to be apart. He cannot claim that their time together has made him happy; what he discovers is that separation makes him unhappy. His thoughts move from wanting to sit beside her and touch her to the realization that he wants to kiss her. Only then does he identify the feeling as love. The recognition is striking partly because it contradicts his imagined model of falling in love: he had pictured a dramatic mutual encounter with a beautiful stranger, not an attachment to a woman whose company has already left him frustrated.

That mismatch between fantasy and experience shapes the course of the infatuation. Mildred does not offer the reciprocal signs of feeling that Philip’s romantic ideal anticipates. Instead, he responds to her distance by concentrating more intensely on her, treating uncertainty as a problem to solve rather than as evidence that she may not want him.

Pursuit and Unequal Exchange

Philip becomes preoccupied with correcting the impression he believes he has made. He plans to visit Mildred’s workplace each day, tries to avoid saying anything that might offend her, and tests whether she will greet him if he does not speak first. Her continued reserve does not end his visits. He promises himself that he will stop going, but the next day he becomes restless and returns. The pattern makes his pursuit self-reinforcing: her lack of response wounds him, and the wound drives him to seek another opportunity to win her over.

Their social meetings offer little sign of shared enthusiasm. When Philip asks where she would like to dine, Mildred says she does not mind; he hears the answer as evidence that she scarcely cares whether she comes. She later remarks that another man would take her out if Philip did not, making plain that his invitation is not the only one available to her. On another evening, she is displeased at having been kept waiting and answers his efforts at conversation with brief replies. Her ease amid the restaurant’s polished surroundings contrasts with Philip’s effort to turn an awkward outing into an intimate occasion.

Philip nevertheless begins seeing Mildred every day. At her request he stops having lunch at her shop, because she fears the other girls will talk, and settles for meeting her for tea. He waits to walk with her to the station, takes her to dinner once or twice a week, and gives her presents including a gold bangle, gloves, and handkerchiefs. He spends more than he can afford. He observes that she shows more affection when he gives her something and that her gratitude corresponds to the value of the gift, but he accepts the exchange because even purchased demonstrations of affection satisfy his longing.

He also rearranges his Sundays around her. Mildred finds Sundays at home tedious, so he travels to Herne Hill, meets her near her home, and accompanies her to church. She describes the visit as something that looks well. Afterwards they separate for dinner, and later walk in Brockwell Park. Philip works to keep the conversation going, although he recognizes that the walks amuse neither of them. He prolongs them because he cannot bear to leave her, even when she becomes tired and irritable. Their quarrels and periods of silence further expose the imbalance: Philip knows she does not care for him as he cares for her, yet grows more exacting as they become more intimate.

The Proposal and Philip’s Self-Deception

As his attachment deepens, Philip’s unsatisfied love turns into resentment as well as devotion. He imagines that marriage might make Mildred answer for the suffering he has endured, while continuing to persuade himself that marriage is sensible. At a Soho restaurant where they often dine, he asks whether she meant what she had said about refusing him if he proposed. She confirms that she did. Philip presses the question in earnest, asking whether his love means anything to her.

Mildred’s answer is practical rather than romantic. She says she would not want to marry if marriage left her no better off financially. Philip responds by treating material calculation as proof that she does not care for him. The exchange crystallizes the difference between them: he approaches marriage as the culmination of feeling, while she judges it by its effect on her position. His appeal to the magnitude of his love cannot alter her assessment.

Even after rejection, Philip tries to make persistence succeed. His studies suffer: he fails the anatomy examination after panicking and doubting answers he knows, and the failure places him among the supposedly incompetent and idle students of his year. He is comparatively unconcerned because Mildred occupies his attention. He constructs a theory that her feelings can be awakened through patience, tact, and repeated kindness. Rather than openly demand affection, he attempts to make himself entertaining and dependable, hides his hurt when she breaks engagements, and tells himself that he can overcome her indifference by never appearing wounded or angry. The strategy is another form of self-deception: he treats unreciprocated feeling as a temporary obstacle and imagines that sufficient emotional labor will change its nature.

Rejection, Conflict, and Significance

The intensity of Philip’s attachment is clearest when Mildred rebuffs him. When she resists his appeal, his mood shifts abruptly from anger to despair. He tells her that he loves her and pleads for another evening together, reasoning that the man she is waiting for cannot care for her as he does. She refuses and says that her mind is made up. In a later confrontation, Philip describes himself as a fool for loving her with all his heart and soul while knowing that she does not care for him. His words acknowledge the imbalance, but they do not free him from it.

The relationship’s later violence of feeling is sharply opposed to Philip’s earlier belief that careful attention and controlled behavior might make Mildred responsive. She eventually turns on him with furious accusations, declaring that she had not cared for him, that she had been bored, and that she had accepted his kisses only for money. Her outburst also reveals that Griffiths and she had laughed at Philip. The disclosure gives explicit confirmation to the humiliation that his pursuit had repeatedly brought close to the surface: Philip’s gifts and devotion did not establish mutual love, and his attempts to purchase or earn affection left him exposed to contempt.

The infatuation therefore develops through a widening contrast between what Philip feels and what Mildred is willing to offer. He converts her reserve into a challenge, her occasional affection into encouragement, and his own suffering into a reason to persist. Mildred’s practical concerns, her limited responses, and finally her explicit rejection repeatedly contradict that interpretation. The episode marks a consequential vulnerability in Philip: his romantic ideal does not merely misread another person but can redirect his money, time, studies, and sense of dignity toward a relationship whose unequal terms he has already begun to understand.