It was, indeed, an interesting truth that the young man, during his convalescence7, without his own knowledge, acted as a species of magnet which drew together persons who might not easily otherwise have met. Mr. Penzance and Mount Dunstan rode over to see him every few days, and their visits naturally established relations with Stornham Court much more intimate than could have formed themselves in the same length of time under any of the ordinary circumstances of country life. Conventionalities lost their prominence8 in friendly intercourse9 with Selden. It was not, however, that he himself desired to dispense10 with convention. His intense wish to “do the right thing,” and avoid giving offence was the most ingenuous11 and touching12 feature of his broad cosmopolitan13 good nature.
“If I ever make a break, sir,” he had once said, with almost passionate14 fervour, in talking to Mr. Penzance, “please tell me, and set me on the right track. No fellow likes to look like a hoosier, but I don't mind that half as much as—as seeming not to APPRECIATE.”
He used the word “appreciate” frequently. It expressed for him many degrees of thanks.
“I tell you that's fine,” he said to Ughtred, who brought him a flower from the garden. “I appreciate that.”
To Betty he said more than once:
“You know how I appreciate all this, Miss Vanderpoel. You DO know I appreciate it, don't you?”
He had an immense admiration15 for Mount Dunstan, and talked to him a great deal about America, often about the sheep ranch16, and what it might have done and ought to have done. But his admiration for Mr. Penzance became affection. To him he talked oftener about England, and listened to the vicar's scholarly stories of its history, its past glories and its present ones, as he might have listened at fourteen to stories from the Arabian Nights.
These two being frequently absorbed in conversation, Mount Dunstan was rather thrown upon Betty's hands. When they strolled together about the place or sat under the deep shade of green trees, they talked not only of England and America, but of divers17 things which increased their knowledge of each other. It is points of view which reveal qualities, tendencies, and innate18 differences, or accordances of thought, and the points of view of each interested the other.
“Mr. Selden is asking Mr. Penzance questions about English history,” Betty said, on one of the afternoons in which they sat in the shade. “I need not ask you questions. You ARE English history.”
“And you are American history,” Mount Dunstan answered.
“I suppose I am.”
At one of their chance meetings Miss Vanderpoel had told Lord Dunholm and Lord Westholt something of the story of G. Selden. The novelty of it had delighted and amused them. Lord Dunholm had, at points, been touched as Penzance had been. Westholt had felt that he must ride over to Stornham to see the convalescent. He wanted to learn some New York slang.
He would take lessons from Selden, and he would also buy a Delkoff—two Delkoffs, if that would be better. He knew a hard-working fellow who ought to have a typewriter.
“Heath ought to have one,” he had said to his father. Heath was the house-steward. “Think of the letters the poor chap has to write to trades-people to order things, and unorder them, and blackguard the shopkeepers when they are not satisfactory. Invest in one for Heath, father.”
“It is by no means a bad idea,” Lord Dunholm reflected. “Time would be saved by the use of it, I have no doubt.”
“It saves time in any department where it can be used,” Betty had answered. “Three are now in use at Stornham, and I am going to present one to Kedgers. This is a testimonial I am offering. Three weeks ago I began to use the Delkoff. Since then I have used no other. If YOU use them you will introduce them to the county.”
She understood the feeling of the junior assistant, when he found himself in the presence of possible purchasers. Her blood tingled19 slightly. She wished she had brought a catalogue.
“We will come to Stornham to see the catalogue,” Lord Dunholm promised.
“Perhaps you will read it aloud to us,” Westholt suggested gleefully.
“G. Selden knows it by heart, and will repeat it to you with running comments. Do you know I shall be very glad if you decide to buy one—or two—or three,” with an uplift of the Irish blue eyes to Lord Dunholm. “The blood of the first Reuben Vanderpoel stirs in my veins—also I have begun to be fond of G. Selden.”
Therefore it occurred that on the afternoon referred to Lady Anstruthers appeared crossing the sward with two male visitors in her wake.
“Lord Dunholm and Lord Westholt,” said Betty, rising.
For this meeting between the men Selden was, without doubt, responsible. While his father talked to Mount Dunstan, Westholt explained that they had come athirst for the catalogue. Presently Betty took him to the sheltered corner of the lawn, where the convalescent sat with Mr. Penzance.
But, for a short time, Lord Dunholm remained to
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