Among a mass of architect's customary memoranda occurred a draft of the letter abusing Paula as an iconoclast or Vandal by blood, which had appeared in the newspaper: the draft was so interlined and altered as to bear evidence of being the original conception of that ungentlemanly attack.
The lad read the letter, smiled, and strolled about the grounds, only met by an occasional pair of individuals of opposite sex in deep conversation, the state of whose emotions led them to prefer the evening shade to the publicity and glare of the tents and rooms.

At last he observed the white waistcoat of the man he sought.
'Mr.Havill, the architect, I believe ?' said Dare.

'The author of most of the noteworthy buildings in this neighbourhood ?' Havill assented blandly.
'I have long wished for the pleasure of your acquaintance, and now an accident helps me to make it.

This pocket-book, I think, is yours ?' Havill clapped his hand to his pocket, examined the book Dare held out to him, and took it with thanks.

'I see I am speaking to the artist, archaeologist, Gothic photographer--Mr.Dare.' 'Professor Dare.' 'Professor?
Pardon me, I should not have guessed it--so young as you are.' 'Well, it is merely ornamental; and in truth, I drop the title in England, particularly under present circumstances.' 'Ah--they are peculiar, perhaps?
Ah, I remember.