“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 tingled 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 converse with Mount Dunstan.  In a way the situation was delicate.  To encounter by chance a neighbour whom one—­for reasons—­has not seen since his childhood, and to be equal to passing over and gracefully obliterating the intervening years, makes demand even upon finished tact.  Lord Dunholm’s world had been a large one, and he had acquired experience tending to the development of the most perfect methods.  If G. Selden had chanced to be the magnet which had decided his course this special afternoon, Miss Vanderpoel it was who had stirred in him sufficient interest in Mount Dunstan to cause him to use the best of these methods when he found himself face to face with him.