At length he became suddenly intent.
Kinnaird was contrasting Canada and England for Miss Stirling's benefit.
"Of course," he said, "we have nothing like this, but in the north, at least, we have odd bits of rugged grandeur where the wildness of the hills about one is emphasized by the green fertility of the valleys.

There is a typical place where we spent a few months last year that I should like you to see.

If you come back with us, as you half promised, we will take you there." Weston leaned forward a little, for he had still a curious tenderness for the land of the fells and dales in which he had been born.

He did not know that Ida Stirling, who had watched him closely when Kinnaird addressed him, had now fixed her eyes on him again.

The latter turned to her as he proceeded.
"The old house," he said, "would make a picture in itself with its little stone-ribbed windows, and the much older square tower and curtain wall that form one wing.