“Don't you know what the county is? How delightful! The 'county' is the county families--landed gentry--very ancient and swagger and all that--much more so than the titled people often. It was very great promotion for the daughter of one of the town to marry into the county--or would have been except that Mother was county also.” She spoke with mock solemnity. “How delightfully picturesque and medieval!” exclaimed Stefan. “The Guelphs and Ghibellines, eh?” “Yes,” Mary replied, “only there is no feud, and it doesn't seem so romantic when you're in it. The man my sister married I thought was frightfully boring except for his family place, and being in the army, which is rather decent. He talks,” she smiled, “like a phonograph with only one set of records.” “Wondrous Being--Winged Goddess--” chanted Stefan, stopping before her and apostrophizing the sky or the boat-deck--“a goddess with a sense of humor!” And he positively glowed upon her. “About the first point I know nothing,” she laughed, walking on again beside him, “but for the second,” and her face became a little grave, “you have to have some humor if you are a girl in Lindum, or you go under.” “Tell me, tell me all about it,” he urged. “I've never met an English girl before, _nor_ a goddess, and I'm so interested!” They rested for a time against the bulwarks. The wind was dropping, and the spume seethed against the black side of the ship without force from the waves to throw it up to them in spray. They looked down into deep blue and green water glassing a sky warm now, and friendly, in which high white cumuli sailed slowly, like full-rigged ships all but becalmed. “It is a very commonplace story with us,” Mary began. “Mother died a little time after Isobel married, and Dad kept my governess on. I begged to go to Girton, or any other college he liked, but he wouldn't hear of it. Said he wanted a womanly daughter.” She smiled rather ruefully. “Dad was doing well with his practice, for a small-town doctor, and had a good deal saved, and a little of mother's money. He wanted to have more, so he put it all into rubber. You've heard about rubber, haven't you?” she asked, turning to Stefan. “Not a thing,” he smiled. “Well, every one in England was putting money into rubber last year, and lots of people did well, but lots--didn't. Poor old Dad didn't--he lost everything. It wouldn't have really mattered--he had his profession--but the shock killed him, I think; that and being lonely without Mother.” She paused a moment, looking into the water. “Anyhow, he died, and there was nothing for me to do except to begin earning my living without any of the necessary equipment.” “What about the brother-in-law?” asked Stefan. “Oh, yes, I could have gone to them--I wasn't in danger of starvation. But,” she shook her head emphatically, “a poor relation! I couldn't have stood that.”