Their eyes met afresh. Something in his was certainly familiar; or in the face as a whole. She had a curious feeling that he and she were not strangers. Yet she could attach no name to the memory-association, vaguely aroused. She was unconscious of her puzzled scrutiny, till he said— "No. I don't think we are old acquaintances." Doris promptly withdrew her gaze. "But how did you know? What made you think—?" "Some people's faces are easily read." "I did think I must have come across you before, somewhere—I can't imagine where." "I have never come across you!" He spoke with absolute conviction. She allowed the question to drop, and they fell into a very pleasant conversation, discussing places that he and she had seen, spots that should be visited, excursions which ought to be made. He was surprised to learn how little she had yet done. Thence they turned to books, comparing notes over what each had read, and exchanging impressions. He found in her an intelligence beyond the average of girls, and readiness to take in fresh ideas. She found in him a cultured mind, clear and sensible, with signs of power. He made no attempt to engross the whole talk, but set himself to draw her out. She felt like an instrument, played upon by a practised hand. It was a new experience, being manipulated by a strong masculine personality, encouraged to say what she thought, listened to with deference, treated as if her crude girlish notions were worth hearing. Hamilton Stirling never did this. He could lecture and inform, but he could not throw open the doors of another mind; indeed he had no wish to do so. When Hamilton asked her what she thought, she always knew that he only wanted to prove her to be in the wrong. This stranger treated her as if she were a reasonable being; not an empty-pated and ignorant person, with no right to differ from him. It is remarkable how many subjects may be skated over, in the course of one lengthy meal. Doris had no conception of the attention drawn by her own animated face,—the real charm of which few present had discovered earlier. Of course Mrs. Brutt was among those who saw; and jealousy soon awoke. She tried to insert herself into the dialogue, scraps of which reached her ears in a tantalising fashion. Didn't the stranger think the views around perfectly enchanting—sublime—magnificent? No doubt they were; but he had not the least intention of discussing them across Doris; and Mrs. Brutt found herself dropped. She fumed in silence, and could not get over it. That she should have to her share a semi-deaf elderly woman, while Doris enjoyed masculine society, was not to be borne with patience. Dinner neared its end. Doris had seldom passed a more delightful time. Could it be that, only an hour or so earlier, she had not known of this man's existence? Again her eyes met his, again to be deciphered; and he shook his head, smiling. "No! No! If we had met, I could not have forgotten."