Lord Dunholm laid subtly brilliant plans to lead Miss Vanderpoel to talk of her native land and her views of it.

He knew that she would say things worth hearing.

Incidentally one gathered picturesque detail.

To have vibrated between the two continents since her thirteenth year, to have spent a few years at school in one country, a few years in another, and yet a few years more in still another, as part of an arranged educational plan; to have crossed the Atlantic for the holidays, and to have journeyed thousands of miles with her father in his private car; to make the visits of a man of great schemes to his possessions of mines, railroads, and lands which were almost principalities--these things had been merely details of her life, adding interest and variety, it was true, but seeming the merely normal outcome of existence.

They were normal to Vanderpoels and others of their class who were abnormalities in themselves when compared with the rest of the world.
Her own very lack of any abnormality reached, in Lord Dunholm's mind, the highest point of illustration of the phase of life she beautifully represented--for beautiful he felt its rare charms were.
When they strolled out to look at the gardens he found talk with her no less a stimulating thing.