Ashley his very patent air of superiority. It was a superiority not in
looks, since Davenant was the taller and the handsomer; nor in clothes,
since Davenant was the better dressed; nor in the moral make-up, since
Davenant had given proofs of unlimited generosity. But there it was, a
tradition of self-assurance, a habit of command which in any company
that knew nothing about either would have made the Englishman easily
stand first.

Her flash of anger against the one in defense of the other passed away,
its place being taken by a feeling that astonished her quite as much.
She tried to think it no more than a pang of jealousy at seeing her own
countryman snubbed by a foreigner. She was familiar with the sensation
from her European, and especially her English, experiences. At an
unfriendly criticism it could be roused on behalf of a chance stranger
from Colorado or California, and was generally quite impersonal. She
told herself that it was impersonal now, that she would have had the
same impulse of protection, of championship, for any one.

Nevertheless, there was a tone in her voice as she joined him that
struck a new note in their acquaintanceship.

"I'm glad you came when you did. I wanted you to meet Colonel Ashley.
You'll like him when you know him better. Just at first he was a little
embarrassed. We'd been talking of things--"

"I didn't notice anything--that is, anything different from any other
Englishman."

"Yes; that's it, isn't it? Meeting an Englishman is often like the first
plunge into a cold bath--chilling at first, but delightful afterward."