“Ah,” said Festing.  “I was a fool to promise Charnock.  I’ve never met people like that, and am afraid they’ll get a jar to-morrow.”

“I don’t think you need be afraid,” Muriel replied.  “They’re not really prudish or censorious, though they are fastidious.”

“And is Miss Dalton like her mother and aunt?”

“In a way.  Helen has their refinement, but she’s made of harder stuff.  She would wear better among strains and shocks.”

Festing shook his head.  “Girls like her ought to be sheltered and kept from shocks.  After all, there’s something to be said for Charnock’s point of view.  Your delicate English grace and bloom ought to be protected and not rubbed off by the rough cares of life.”

“I don’t know if you’re nice or not,” Muriel rejoined with a laugh.  “Anyway, you don’t know many English girls, and your ideas about us are old-fashioned.  We are not kept in lavender now.  Besides, it isn’t the surface bloom that matters, and fine stuff does not wear out.  It takes a keener edge and brighter polish from strenuous use.  And Helen is fine stuff.”

“So I thought,” said Festing quietly, and stopped at the end of the terrace.  The bleating of sheep had died away, and except for the splash of the beck a deep silence brooded over the dale.  The sun had set and the landscape was steeped in soft blues and grays, into which woods and hills slowly melted.

“It’s remarkably pleasant here,” he said.  “Not a sign of strain and hurry; things seem to run on well-oiled wheels!  Perhaps the greatest change is to feel that one has nothing to do.”

“But you had holidays now and then in Canada.”

“No,” said Festing.  “Anyhow I’ve had none for a very long time.  Of course there are lonely places, and in winter the homesteads on the plains are deadly quiet, but I was always where some big job was rushed along.  Hauling logs across the snow, driving them down rivers, and after I joined the railroad, checking calculations, and track-grading in the rain.  It was a fierce hustle from sunrise to dark, with all your senses highly strung and your efforts speeded up.”

“Then one can understand why it’s a relief to lounge.  But would that satisfy you long?”

Festing laughed.  “It would certainly satisfy me for a time, but after that I don’t know.  It’s a busy world, and there’s much to be done.”

Muriel studied him as they walked back along the terrace.  He wore no hat, and she liked the way he held his head and his light, springy step, though she smiled as she noted that he pulled himself up to keep pace with her.  It was obvious that he was not used to moving leisurely.  Then his figure, although spare, was well proportioned, and his rather thin face was frank.  He had what she called a fined-down look, but concentrated effort of mind and body had given him a hint of distinction.  He was a man who did things, and she wondered what Helen, who was something of a romantic dreamer, would think of him.  Then she reflected with a touch of amusement that he would probably find the errand his friend had given him embarrassing.