he chaplets of briony berries that look as if
they had been thrown over the hedges are beginning to change to scarlet
here and there. The wild rose-haws are reddening, and so are the
clusters of berries on the thorn trees and bushes."

"There are millions of them," Mount Dunstan said, "and in a few weeks'
time they will look like bunches of crimson coral. When the sun shines
on them they will be wonderful to see."

What was there in such speeches as these to draw any two nearer and
nearer to each other as they walked side by side--to fill the morning
air with an intensity of life, to seem to cause the world to drop away
and become as nothing? As they had been isolated during their waltz in
the crowded ballroom at Dunholm Castle, so they were isolated now. When
they stood in the narrow green groves of the hop garden, talking simply
of the placing of the bins and the stripping and measuring of the vines,
there might have been no human thing within a hundred miles--within a
thousand. For the first time his height and strength conveyed to her an
impression of physical beauty. His walk and bearing gave her pleasure.
When he turned his red-brown eyes upon her suddenly she was conscious
that she liked their colour, their shape, the power of the look in them.
On his part, he--for the twentieth time--found himself newly moved by
the dower nature had bestowed on her. Had the world ever held before a
woman creature so much to be longed for?--abnormal wealth, New York and
Fifth Avenue notwithstanding, a man could only think of folding arms
round her and whispering in her lovely ear--follies, oaths, prayers,
gratitude.

And yet as they went about together there was growing in Betty
Vanderpoel's mind a certain realisation. It grew in spite of the
recognition of the change in him--the new thing lighted in his eyes.
Whatsoever he felt--if he felt anything--he would never allow himself
speech. How could he? In his place she could not speak herself. Because
he was the strong thing which drew her thoughts, he would not come to
any woman only to cast at her feet a burden which, in the nature of
things, she must take up. And suddenly she comprehended that the mere
obstinate Briton in him--even apart from greater things--had an immense
attraction for her. As she liked now the red-brown colour of his
eyes and saw beauty in his rugged features, so she liked his British
stubbornness and the pride which would not be beaten.

"It is the uncon