"I see." Cassandra sat silent then, and Lady Thryng waited expectantly for her errand to be declared, curious about this beautiful young creature who had stepped into her home unannounced from out of the unknown, yet graciously kindly and unhurried. "I think I know. With us men are too careless. They think it isn't necessary, I suppose." Again she paused with parted lips, as if she would speak on, but could not. "With you, men are too busy making money, I am told. It is necessary to have a leisure class like ours." "Oh!" Cassandra caught her breath and smiled. She was thinking of the silver pot her mother had enjoined her to take with her, and why. "But we do think a great deal of family; even the simplest of us care for that, although we have no leisure class--only the loafers. I'm afraid you think it very strange I should come to you in this way, but I--thought I would like to see Doctah Thryng again, and when I heard he was not in England, I thought I would come to you and bring the messages from those who loved him when he was with us. But I mustn't stop now and take your time. I'll write them instead, only that wouldn't be like seeing him. He stayed a whole year at our place." "And you came from Canada?" "Oh, no. A long way from there. My home is in North Carolina." "Oh, indeed! How very interesting! That must have been when he was so ill." Then, noticing Cassandra's extreme pallor, she begged her most kindly to come out on the terrace and have tea; but she would not. She felt her fortitude giving way, and knew she must hasten. "But you must, you know. The heat and your long ride have made you faint." "I--I'm afraid so. It--won't--last." "Wait, then. You must take a little wine; you need it." Roused to sympathy, Lady Thryng left her a moment and returned immediately with a glass of wine, which she held to her lips with her own hand. "There, you will soon be better. Here is a fan. It really is very warm. Indeed, you must have tea before you go." She took her passive hand and led her out on the terrace unresisting, and again Cassandra was minded to throw her arms about the lovely woman's neck, who was so sweet and kind, and sob on her bosom and tell her all--but David had his own reasons, and she would not. "Do you stay long in England?" "I am going to-morrow. Oh!" she exclaimed, as they stepped out, and she saw the number of elaborately dressed guests moving about and gayly chatting and laughing. "I can't go out there. I am a strangah." It was a low melancholy wail as she said it, and long afterward Lady Thryng remembered that moaning cry, "I am a strangah." "No, no. You are an American and a very beautiful one. Come, they will be glad to meet you. Give me your name again."