"I believe I owe you some thanks," he admitted. "I like the way you headed off Batley--I think he meant to turn savage at first--and I wouldn't have been willing to draw in Gladwyne, as you did. He has a way of crushing you with a look." "It's merely a sign that you deserve it," Lisle laughed. "You take too many things for granted in this country. Test another man's assumption of superiority before you agree with it, and you'll sometimes be astonished to find out what it's really founded on. And now we'd better join those people who're singing." CHAPTER XV BELLA'S DEFEAT The afternoon was calm and hazy, and Lisle lounged with great content in a basket-chair on Millicent's lawn. His hostess sat near by, looking listless, a somewhat unusual thing for her, and Miss Hume, her elderly companion, genial in spite of her precise formality, was industriously embroidering something not far away. There was not a breath of wind astir; a soft gray sky streaked with long bars of stronger color hung motionless over the wide prospect. Wood and moorland ridge and distant hill had faded to dimness of contour and quiet neutral tones. Indeed, the whole scene seemed steeped in a profound tranquillity, intensified only by the murmur of the river. Lisle enjoyed it all, though he was conscious that Millicent's presence added to its charm. He had grown to feel restful and curiously at ease in her company. She was, he thought, so essentially natural; one felt at home with her. "I haven't often seen you with the unoccupied appearance you have just now," he remarked at length. "I have sent the book off, and after being at work on it so long, I feel disinclined to do anything else," she said. "I've just heard from the publishers; they don't seem enthusiastic. After all, one couldn't expect that--the style of the thing is rather out of the usual course." Lisle looked angry and she was pleased with his indignation on her behalf. "They show precious little sense!" he declared; "but you're right. It's one of your English customs to go on from precedent to precedent until you get an unmodifiable standard, when you slavishly conform to it. Now your book's neither a classification nor a catalogue--it's something far bigger. Never mind what the experts and scientists say; wait until the people who love the wild things and want their story made real get it into their hands!" His confidence was gratifying, but she changed the subject. "You Canadians haven't much respect for precedent?" "No; we try to meet the varying need by constantly changing means. They're often crude, but they're successful, as a rule." "It's a system that must have a wide effect," she responded, to lead him on. She liked to hear him talk.