moved--how well her black head was set on
her neck! Yes, she was of the new type--the later generation.

These amazing, oddly practical people had evolved it--planned it,
perhaps, bought--figuratively speaking--the architects and material to
design and build it--bought them in whatever country they found them,
England, France, Italy Germany--pocketing them coolly and carrying them
back home to develop, complete, and send forth into the world when their
invention was a perfected thing. Struck by the humour of his fancy, Lord
Dunholm found himself smiling into the Irish-blue eyes. They smiled
back at him in a way which warmed his heart. There were no pauses in
the conversation which followed. In times past, calls at Stornham had
generally held painfully blank moments. Lady Dunholm was as pleased as
her husband. A really charming girl was an enormous acquisition to the
neighbourhood.

Westholt, his father saw, had found even more than the story of old
Doby's pipe had prepared him to expect.

Country calls were not usually interesting or stimulating, and this one
was. Lord Dunholm laid subtly brilliant plans to lead Miss Vanderpoel to
talk of her native land and her views of it. He knew that she would say
things worth hearing. Incidentally one gathered picturesque detail. To
have vibrated between the two continents since her thirteenth year, to
have spent a few years at school in one country, a few years in another,
and yet a few years more in still another, as part of an arranged
educational plan; to have crossed the Atlantic for the holidays, and to
have journeyed thousands of miles with her father in his private car; to
make the visits of a man of great schemes to his possessions of mines,
railroads, and lands which were almost principalities--these things had
been merely details of her life, adding interest and variety, it was
true, but seeming the merely normal outcome of existence. They were
normal to Vanderpoels and others of their class who were abnormalities
in themselves when compared with the rest of the world.

Her own very lack of any abnormality reached, in Lord Dunholm's mind,
the highest point of illustration of the phase of life she beautifully
represented--for beautiful he felt its rare charms were.

When they strolled out to look at the gardens he found talk with her no
less a stimulating thing. She told her story of Kedgers, and showed
the chosen spot where thickets of lilies were to bloom, with the