'I think I've got something here that will be rather more in your line.' He brought from a corner of the room a large portfolio, set it upon a chair in front of Emily, and exposed its contents.

These were a number of fine photographs of continental cathedrals and churches.
'I bought these when I took my run through France and Germany last year,' he explained.

'I've something of a turn for architecture, I believe; at all events, I know I like a fine building, and I like to find out all I can about it.' He went through the collection, with remarks which proved that he had certainly attained a rudimentary knowledge of the subject, and that his appreciation was often keen when his technical understanding might be at fault.
'The worst of it is,' he said, at one point, with a modesty which was a new feature in his conversation, 'I can't pronounce the names properly.
Now, how do you read that, Miss Hood?
To be sure; I know it when I hear it.

Have you ever been in France ?' The negative reply came.
'You'd like to see the old-fashioned streets in which some of these churches stand.' As soon as it was possible to do so, Emily looked meaningly at her father, and he, just as anxious to be on his way homeward, rose for leave-taking.

Dagworthy offered no opposition; he went with them to the gates, and shook hands with both, then stood gazing after them as they walked across the common.
'Well, I never knew young Dagworthy anything like that before,' said Mr.
Hood, when they were at some distance from the gate.