is, I expect;
and, in a week's time, a cruise to Norway. And you, Simon?"

Simon Dubosc did not reply. He had turned toward the club-house, whose
windows, in their borders of Virginia creeper and honeysuckle, were
blazing with the sun. The players had left the links and were taking
tea beneath great many-coloured sunshades planted on the lawn. The
_Argus_ was passing from hand to hand and arousing excited comments.
Some of the tables were occupied by young men and women, others by
their elders and others by old gentlemen who were recuperating their
strength by devouring platefuls of cake and toast.

To the left, beyond the geranium-beds, the gentle undulations of the
links began, covered with turf that was like green velvet; and right
at the end, a long way off, rose the tall figure of a last player,
escorted by his two caddies.

"Lord Bakefield's daughter and her three friends can't take their eyes
off you," said Rolleston.

Simon smiled:

"Miss Bakefield is looking at me because she knows I love her; and her
three friends because they know I love Miss Bakefield. A man in love
is always something to look at; a pleasant sight for the one who is
loved and an irritating sight for those who are not."

This was spoken without a trace of vanity. For that matter, no man
could have possessed more natural charm or displayed a more alluring
simplicity. The expression of his face, his blue eyes, his smile and
something personal, an emanation compounded of strength and suppleness
and healthy gaiety, of confidence in himself and in life, all
contributed to give this peculiarly favoured young man a power of
attraction to whose spell the onlooker readily surrendered.

Devoted to out-door games and exercises, he had grown to manhood with
those young postwar Frenchmen who made a strong point of physical
culture and a rational mode of life. His movements and his attitudes
alike revealed that harmony which is developed by a logical training
and is still further refined, in those who comply with the rules of a
very active intellectual existence, by the study of art and a feeling
for beauty in all of its forms.

For him, indeed, as for many others, liberation from the lecture-room
had not meant the beginning of a new life. If, by reason of a
superfluity of energy, he was impelled to give much of his time to
games and to attempts at establishing records which took him to all
the running-grounds and athletic battle-fields of Europe