grey eyes
brilliant with tears--but she could not utter a sound.

Perhaps aware that her overcharged heart was meddling with her voice,
he merely smiled as he watched her moving slowly back to Thessalie's
room, where the magic trunk was being packed. Then he turned to his
letters again. One was from his mother:

"Garry darling, anybody you bring to Foreland is always welcome,
as you know. Your family never inquires of its members concerning
any guests they may see fit to invite. Bring Miss Dunois and
Dulcie Soane, your little model, if you like. There's a world of
room here; nobody ever interferes with anybody else. You and your
guests have two thousand acres to roam about in, ride over, fish
over, paint over. There's plenty for everybody to do, alone or in
company.

"Your father is well. He looks little older than you. He's fishing
most of the time, or busy reforesting that sandy region beyond the
Foreland hills.

"Your sister and I ride as usual and continue to improve the
breeds of the various domestic creatures in which we are
interested and you are not.

"The pheasants are doing well this year, and we're beginning to
turn them out with their foster-mothers.

"Your father wishes me to tell you and Jim Westmore that the trout
fishing is still fairly good, although it was better, of course,
in May and June.

"The usual parties and social amenities continue in Northbrook.
Everybody included in that colony seems to have arrived, also the
usual influx of guests, and there is much entertaining, tennis,
golf, dances--the invariable card always offered there.

"Claire and I go enough to keep from being too completely
forgotten. Your father seldom bothers himself.

"Also, the war in Europe has made us, at Foreland, disinclined to
frivolity. Others, too, of the older society in Northbrook are
more subdued than usual, devote themselves to quieter pursuits.
And those among us who have sons of military age are prone to
take life soberly in these strange, oppressive days when even
under sunny skies in this land aloof from war, all are conscious
of the tension, the vague foreboding, the brooding stillness that
sometimes heralds storms.

"But all north-country folk do not feel this way. The Gerhardts,
for example, are very gay with a house full of guests and
overflowing week-ends. The German Embassy, as always, is well
represented at Hohenlind