ps were clean
shaven, the eyes dark, deep-set, thickly lashed and browed, the only
handsome feature in the face. Cornelia mentally pulled herself
together, as Guest turned his head, and cast a fleeting glance at her
beneath his drooping lids.

"I was sorry to hear that your friend is too ill to be moved. I
imagined at the time that she was worse than you realised."

"She _thinks_ she is, anyhow, and that's about as good as the real
thing--perhaps better, where health's concerned. Some people don't need
much to upset 'em--Elma's one! I guess there's never much snap to her!"

The dark brows arched expressively. "Really! I am afraid I hardly--
er--understand the expression!"

"You wouldn't!" returned Cornelia, calmly. "It don't seem to flourish
in this part of the country. At home we reckon no one _is_ much use
without it."

"So I have heard!" Captain Guest's understanding of the term seemed to
have been more complete than he would acknowledge. "Our standards
differ, however. `Snap' may be a useful commodity in the business
world, but one resents its intrusion into private life. The very name
is objectionable in connection with a girl like Miss Ramsden--with any
English girl!"

Cornelia curled her red lips.

"Yes, they flop; and you like 'em floppy! Kind of ivy round a stalwart
oak, or a sweet, wayside rose. A m-o-oss rose!" No amount of
description could convey the intonation which she threw into that short
word. The "o" was lengthened indefinitely, giving a quaint, un-English
effect to the word, which sounded at the same time incredibly full of
suggestion. Guest flushed with annoyed understanding, even before
Cornelia proceeded to enlarge. "The m-o-oss makes a nice, soft wadding
all round, to keep the little buds safe and hidden. We use it quite a
good deal at home for packing curios. _Dried_ moss! It's apt to get a
bit stale with keeping, don't you think?"

"No doubt; but even so it retains some of its fragrance. In its worst
state I should be sorry to exchange it for"--it was now the Captain's
turn to throw all his power of expression into one short word--"_snap_!"

Cornelia's laugh held a curious mingling of irritation and pleasure.

It was poor fun having a quarrel all to herself, and it whetted her
appetite to find a combatant who was capable of "hitting back." She sat
up very straight in her seat, tossing her head backward in quick,
assertive little jerks, and clasping her bare ha