The poise of her head, the lifted chin, every detail in the polished and delicately tinted surface reflected cool experience of the world and of men.

Yet the eyes were young, and there was no hardness in them, and the mouth seemed curiously unfashioned for worldly badinage--a very wistful, full-lipped mouth that must have been disciplined in some sad school to lose its cheerfulness in repose.
"I am wondering," she said, "why Mr.Portlaw does not come and talk to me.

We are neighbors in the country, you know; I live at Pride's Fall.

I don't think it's particularly civil of him to avoid me." "I can't imagine anybody, including Portlaw, avoiding you," he said.
"We were such good friends--I don't know--he behaved very badly to me last autumn." They chatted together for a moment or two in the same inconsequential vein, then, other people being presented, she nodded an amiable dismissal; and, as he stepped aside, held out her hand.
"There are a lot of things I'd like to ask you some day; one is about a park for me at Pride's Fall--oh, the tiniest sort of a park, only it should be quite formal in all its miniature details.

Will you let Shiela bring you for a little conference?
_Soon_ ?" He promised and took his leave, elated at the chances of a new commission, hunting through the constantly arriving and departing throngs for Shiela.