It was not the usual human charm of ordinary attractive people. It was something far more magical and spell-weaving than that. In fact it was so unusual that there was almost something uncanny about it. It was the charm of fairies and of elves rather than of "golden boys and girls": it was a spell woven out of moonbeams and will-o'-the-wisp rather than out of breezes and the sunshine of a soft spring day. I never met any one with that peculiar kind of charm save Wildacre and his son and daughter, and his children--more especially the daughter--had it to a far greater extent than he. But it was that strange fascination of Wildacre's that induced Blathwayte to upset his whole scheme of existence in order to gratify Wildacre's whim, and it was that same attribute intensified in the twins that turned my world upside down and reduced its orderly routine to chaos. Big, ugly Arthur--looking bigger and uglier than usual beside the ethereal boy--shook hands with us, and introduced his guest, and in a few moments the fairy changeling was sitting at the gate-legged table with us three ordinary mortals, drinking tea like any English schoolboy. But he was not like an English schoolboy in any other respect. He was perfectly at ease with us at once, as indeed he was with everybody. There was no such word as _shyness_ in Frank Wildacre's dictionary. But the funny thing was that--quite unconsciously to himself--he seemed to be bestowing a favour upon Annabel and me in condescending to drink tea with us, while (if the truth must be told) Annabel and I generally considered it rather an act of graciousness on our part to invite any one to tea at Restham Manor. I think it must have been the Winterford blood bubbling in our veins that produced this exclusive and archaic feeling, or it might have been merely a symptom of the general grooviness of single middle age. Frank was delighted with Restham, and hastened to tell us so, thereby grappling Annabel to his soul with hoops of steel. Blathwayte had already told him the history and legends of the place; and he had assimilated these as if he had known them for years. And he not only assimilated them: he seemed to give them back again to us so enriched with the decoration of his fancy that we--who had been brought up on them--realised for the first time how beautiful they were. "So Mr. Blathwayte has told you that we are situated on the Pilgrim's Road," said Annabel, after the conversation had flowed for some minutes like a river in spate.