f their
departure. She did see and smile at the characteristic quality of an
instinctive gesture of Eugenia's as they stepped up on the platform of
the station. Two oddly-shaped pieces of metal stood there, obviously
parts of a large machine. Paul stumbled over them as he climbed out of
the car, and held tight to Mr. Welles' hand to save himself from a fall.
Eugenia saw them instantly from afar as an element in life which
threatened the spotlessness of her gray traveling cloak, and as she
passed them she drew the thick folds of velvet-like wool about her
closely. Marise thought to herself, "That's Eugenia's gesture as she
goes through the world."

Neale turned off his switch, listened a moment to see if the Ford were
boiling from the long climb up the hill to the station, and now made one
long-legged step to the platform. He started towards Eugenia with the
evident intention of making some casual pleasant remarks, such as are
demanded by decency for a departing guest, but in his turn his eyes
caught the curiously shaped pieces of metal. He stopped short, his face
lighted up with pleasure and surprise. All consciousness of anyone else
on the platform disappeared from his expression. "Hello!" he said to
himself, "those mandrels here." He picked up one in his strong hands on
which the metal left a gray dust, and inspected it. He might have been
entirely alone in his shop at the mill.

Marise noted with envy how he gave all of himself to that momentary
examination, entirely escaped from any awareness of that tyrannical self
which in her own heart always clamored like a spoiled child for
attention. The impersonal concentration of his look as he turned the
metal about between those strong dusty hands, gave to his face the calm,
freed expression not to be bought for any less price than a greater
interest in one's work than in one's self. "They'll do," pronounced
Neale. This was evidently a thought spoken aloud, for it did not occur
to him to make any pretense of including the two women in his interest.
He set down the casting he held, and went off into the freight-house,
calling loudly, "Charlie! Charlie! Those mandrels have come. I wish
you'd . . ." his voice died away as he walked further into the dusky
freight-shed.

Marise happening to glance at Eugenia now, caught on her face an
expression which she took to be annoyance at a breach of manners. She
reflected, "Eugenia must find Neale's abrupt American ways perfectly
ba