"Just as mad as he can be, to be obliged to be civil to `the girl' for a short half hour! Guess there's one or two, several sizes bigger than him, who would cross the ocean to-morrow for the chance! He's English-- real English!--the sort that's fixed up with liquid prejudice for blood, and eye-glasses made to see nothing on earth but the British Empire. Rather skeery at the present moment at being set down beside a bold American hussy, with only a groom as chaperon! ... Well! I always was tender-hearted. I'll pile it on all I know, to fix him in his opinions. I'm made so's I ken't endoore to disappoint anyone in his expectations!" She turned deliberately to stare at the silent figure by her side. Certainly he was a fine figure of a man! Her own countrymen who would have travelled so far as to take his place, would have to be giants if the "several sizes" bigger were to be taken in literal earnest. The lean cheek showed the square formation of the jaw, the lips 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?"