Her voice and laugh, as she stood talking to the Bishop, were delightful, and neither her gestures nor her accent betrayed the slightest trace of foreign blood.

She was, without a doubt, extraordinarily attractive, gracious almost to freedom in her manner, and yet with that peculiar quality of aloofness only recognisable in the elect,--a very appreciable charm.

Julian found his undoubted admiration only increased by his closer scrutiny.

Nevertheless, as he watched her, there was a slightly puzzled frown upon his forehead, a sense of something like bewilderment mingled with those other feelings.
His mother, who had turned to speak to the object of his attentions, beckoned him, and he crossed the room at once to their side.
"Julian is going to take you in to dinner, Miss Abbeway," the Countess announced, "and I hope you will be kind to him, for he's been out all night and a good part of the morning, too, shooting ducks and talking nonsense with a terrible Socialist." Lady Maltenby passed on.

Julian, leaning on his stick, looked down with a new interest into the face which had seldom been out of his thoughts since their first meeting, a few weeks ago.
"Tell me, Mr.Orden," she asked, "which did you find the more exhausting--tramping the marshes for sport, or discussing sociology with your friend ?" "As a matter of fact," he replied, "we didn't tramp the marshes.