life long the phrase had
rung in his ears, "I don't understand you!" "If I could once understand
you!" and for lack of that understanding there had been trouble and
coldness between himself and his nearest relative. Proverbially he was
difficult to understand; and he had prided himself on the reputation.
Who wanted to be a simple, transparent fellow, whom any one could lead?
This was the first time in his life that he had come into contact with a
girl who announced herself an expert understander of human nature. He
wondered vaguely what, given the initial success, Pixie would wish him
to do, hesitated on the point of inquiry, thought better of it and
turned the conversation to impersonal topics.

After dinner Pixie sat on a sofa in the drawing-room enjoying a
temporary _tete-a-tete_ with the other girl visitor. Miss Ward's hair
was, if possible, smoother than ever, and she wore a velvet dress almost
exactly matching it in shade, which seemed to Pixie's unsophisticated
eyes an extraordinarily sumptuous garment for a young girl to wear. Her
eyes were brown, too--bright, quick-glancing eyes full of interest and
curiosity. When she spoke her nationality became once more conspicuous.

"Miss Pat-ricia O'Shaughnessy, I guess you and I have got to be real
good friends! I've been spoiling for another girl to enjoy this trip
with me. If you're having a good time, it makes it twice as good to
have a girl to go shares, and compare notes, and share the jokes. You
look to me as if you could enjoy a joke."

"I was brought up to them," Pixie affirmed. "I couldn't live without.
There's nothing to eat, nor to drink, nor to do, nor to have that I
couldn't give up at a pinch, but a sense of humour I--must have! If you
feel the same, we're friends from this minute. ... Would you mind
telling me as a start just exactly who you are?"

Miss Ward's face fell. Her white brows knitted in a frown.

"I'm an Amurrican," she announced. "Mr and Mrs Hilliard had an
introduction to my people when they visited the States, and when I came
over to Europe they invited me here. I'm proud to death of being an
Amurrican; that's of course! But there's something else. You might as
well know it first as last." She straightened herself and drew a
fluttering breath. "I'm in trade! I'm Ward's Unrivalled Piquant
Pickles!"

"Wh-what?" Pixie stammered in confusion, as well she might, for the
announcement was unusual, to say the least of it.