Marshall would of course be interested in his pine plantations and
lumbering operations struck nobody but Miss Marshall as queer. With
the most hearty and simple unconsciousness, they unanimously felt that
of course Miss Marshall _would_ be interested in the pine plantations
and the lumbering operations of any man who was worth nobody knew how
many millions in coal, and who was so obviously interested in her.

Sylvia had been for some weeks observing the life about her with very
much disillusioned eyes and she now labeled the feeling on the part of
her friends with great accuracy, saying to herself cynically, "If it
were prize guinea-pigs or collecting beer-steins, they would all be
just as sure that I would jump up and say, 'Oh yes, _do_ show me, Mr.
Page!'" Following this moody reflection she immediately jumped up
and said enthusiastically, "Oh yes, _do_ show me, Mr. Page!" The
brilliance in her eyes during these weeks came partly from a relieved
sense of escape from a humiliating position, and partly from an
amusement at the quality of human nature which was as dubiously
enjoyable as the grim amusement of biting on a sore tooth.

She now took her place by the side of their host, and thought, looking
at his outdoor aspect, that her guess at what to wear had been better
than Aunt Victoria's or Molly's. For the question of what to wear had
been a burning one. Pressure had been put on her to don just a lacy,
garden-party toilette of lawn and net as now automatically barred both
Aunt Victoria and Molly from the proposed expedition to the woods.
Nobody had had the least idea what was to be the color of the
entertainment offered them, for the great significance of the affair
was that it was the first time that Page had ever invited any one to
the spot for which he evidently felt such an unaccountable affection.
Aunt Victoria had explained to Sylvia, "It's always at the big Page
estate in Lenox that he entertains, or rather that he gets his mother
to do the absolutely indispensable entertaining for him." Morrison
said laughingly: "Isn't it the very quintessence of quaintness to
visit him there! To watch his detached, whimsical air of not being
in the least a part of all the magnificence which bears his name. He
insists, you know, that he doesn't begin to know his way around that
huge house!" "It was his father who built the Lenox place," commented
Mrs. Marshall-Smith. "It suited _his_ taste to perfection. Austin
seems to ha