china, of a deep blue that struck the right note of contrast with the
pale-yellow wall.

Festing felt that the house had an influence; a gracious influence
perhaps, but vaguely antagonistic to him. He had thought of a house as
a place in which one ate and slept, but did not expect it to mold one's
character. Surroundings like this were no doubt Helen Dalton's proper
environment, but he came from the outside turmoil, where men sweated and
struggled and took hard knocks.

In the meantime, he talked to and studied the two ladies. Although they
had white hair, they were younger than he thought at first and much
alike. It was as if they had faded prematurely from breathing too
rarefied an atmosphere and shutting out rude but bracing blasts. Still
they had a curious charm, and he had felt a hint of warmth in Mrs.
Dalton's welcome that puzzled him.

"We have been expecting you. Bob told us you would come," she said in a
low, sweet voice, and added with a smile: "I wanted to meet you."

Festing wondered what Bob had said about him, but for a time they
tactfully avoided the object of his visit and asked him questions about
his journey. Then Mrs. Dalton got up.

"Helen is in the garden. Shall we look for her?"

She took him across the lawn to a bench beneath a copper beech, and
Festing braced himself when a girl got up. She wore white and the shadow
of the leaves checkered the plain dress. He noted the unconscious grace
of her pose as she turned towards him, and her warm color, which seemed