ad begun
by feeling an interest in his story, and had asked questions about him,
because a situation such as his suggested query to a man of affairs.
Thus, it had been natural that the letters should speak of him. What she
had written had recalled to him certain rumours of the disgraceful
old scandal. Yes, they had been a bad lot. He arranged to put a
casual-sounding question or so to certain persons who knew English
society well. What he gathered was not encouraging. The present
Lord Mount Dunstan was considered rather a surly brute, and lived a
mysterious sort of life which might cover many things. It was bad blood,
and people were naturally shy of it. Of course, the man was a pauper,
and his place a barrack falling to ruin. There had been something rather
shady in his going to America or Australia a few years ago.

Good looking? Well, so few people had seen him. The lady, who was
speaking, had heard that he was one of those big, rather lumpy men, and
had an ill-tempered expression. She always gave a wide berth to a man
who looked nasty-tempered. One or two other persons who had spoken of
him had conveyed to Mr. Vanderpoel about the same amount of vaguely
unpromising information. The episode of G. Selden had been interesting
enough, with its suggestions of picturesque contrasts and combinations.
Betty's touch had made the junior salesman attracting. It was a good
type this, of a young fellow who, battling with the discouragements of
a hard life, still did not lose his amazing good cheer and patience, and
found healthy sleep and honest waking, even in the hall bedroom. He had
consented to Betty's request that he would see him, partly because he
was inclined to like what he had heard, and partly for a reason which
Betty did not suspect. By extraordinary chance G. Selden had seen Mount
Dunstan and his surroundings at close range. Mr. Vanderpoel had liked
what he had gathered of Mount Dunstan's attitude towards a personality
so singularly exotic to himself. Crude, uneducated, and slangy, the
junior salesman was not in any degree a fool. To an American father with
a daughter like Betty, the summing-up of a normal, nice-natured, common
young denizen of the United States, fresh from contact with the
effete, might be subtly instructive, and well worth hearing, if it was
unconsciously expressed. Mr. Vanderpoel thought he knew how, after
he had overcome his visitor's first awkwardness--if he chanced to be
self-conscious--he cou