know that California men had aspirations."

The girls went with him to the verandah, and all started down the
driveway together, then paired. To her surprise, Magdalena found
Trennahan beside her.

"I am so glad to be with you again," he said petulantly. "I am tired of
types."

"Types?"

"Yes; women that a man has been used to for many long weary years,--to
put it in another way."

"But surely you find Ila very fascinating?"

"Oh, yes; but one understands the fascination so well; and it gives so
much pleasure to--twenty-two, that it is almost immoral for an old fogy
like myself to monopolise it. I don't understand you in the least, so I
am here."

Magdalena trembled a little. The nineteen years of her life suddenly
assumed a glad complexion, lifting her spirit to the level of her mates.
She tried to recall the sad and bitter experiences of her brief past,
but they scampered down into the roots of memory.

He did not speak again for a time, beyond asking if he might smoke. He
was quite sincere for the moment; but he understood the much of her that
was salient to his trained eye. Her parents, her timid reserve, so
unlike that of other American girls favoured by fortune, her ignorance
of certain conventionalities, the very fashion of her hair, the very
incompatibility of her costume and colouring, told him two thirds of her
short history. Of the history of her inner life he guessed little, but
believed that she had both depth of mind and intensity of feeling. To
get her confidence would be next to impossible; it was therefore well
worth the effort. If she proved as interesting as he suspected, he
believed that he should feel disposed to marry her did she only have a
complexion. He was weary straight down into the depths of his weary soul
of the women and the girls of the world; but he also abhorred a sallow
skin. He had worshipped beauty in his day, and was by no means
impervious to it yet; but he felt that he could overlook Magdalena's
nose and mouth and elementary figure for the sake of her eyes and
originality, did she only possess the primary essential of beauty. A man
regards a woman's lack of complexion as a personal grievance.

If the American habit of monologue had been a part of Trennahan's
inheritance, his foreign training had long since lifted it up by the
roots; but he saw that if he was to make progress with this silent girl,
he must do the talking. He could be both brilliant and amusing when he
c