ainst the background of dull brown oak. Her eyes
were a curious gray that changed to sparkling hazel-brown with the
light; her hair was brown with a coppery gleam, and her dress a soft
green. Jim had not seen the dress before and did not know if it was
the latest fashion, but he felt that Carrie's choice was good. It was
not that the harmonious color gave her beauty; the effect was deeper.
The girl had a touch of dignity that was rather natural than cultivated.

She lifted her head and smiled as she went up to Jim, and asked, as if
Mordaunt was not there: "How do you like me?"

"In a way, you're wonderful," Jim replied. "Of course, I knew that
before--when you nursed me, and in the woods--but somehow I hadn't
expected _this_! When did you get the dress?"

"When we were in London. I hadn't long, but I wanted to be just
right," Carrie answered with a blush. Then she laughed. "You're very
nice, Jim; but do I really fit in?"

"Marvelously," Mordaunt interposed. "If my opinion is worth much, you
look as if you belonged to Langrigg. That is, you go back, beyond our
times, to the folks who built the peel to keep out the Scots."

Jim nodded. Mordaunt had said what he himself had vaguely thought.
The fellow was sensitive and had felt the girl's virility. Jim was a
little surprised that Carrie, who knew nothing about the Border wars,
seemed to understand, for she gave Mordaunt a quiet but rather piercing
look.

"Well," she said. "I have been up against Nature, where she's raw and
savage, in the woods."

"Perhaps that accounts for it," Mordaunt replied, smiling. "Nature is
savage in the frozen North; perhaps Jim told you I have been there.
But I imagine you made good."

"Jim made good. I like to think I helped."

"I expect your help was worth much!" said Mordaunt.

Carrie's glance rested on him calmly and he felt that she needed study.
She did not speak, however, and Mrs. Halliday and the others came in.
After a few minutes they went to the paneled dining-room and Jim forgot
Carrie when he sat down by Evelyn. Her color was subdued, her skin,
for the most part, ivory white, and she had black eyes and hair.
Although rather tall, she looked fragile, but she was marked by a
fastidious grace and calm that Jim thought patrician. This was not the
word he wanted, but he did not know another.

"It's curious, but I seem to know you," she said, presently.

"I don't think it is very curious," Jim replied. "You