“I mean by it that I believe in the world, that I love the world; I believe that its grapes are worth while,--and by grapes I mean the things that people strive for and that the strong attain. The higher they hang and the harder the climb, the more I like them.” Gavan received these interpretations without comment. “A seat in the House isn’t very high, though, is it?” he remarked. “That depends on the sitter. It might be a splendid or a trivial thing.” “And in my case, if I’d got it, what would it have been? Can you see that, too, you very clear-sighted young woman?” He stood above her, smiling, but now without suavity or artificiality; looking at her as though she were a pretty gipsy whose palm he had crossed with silver. And Eppie answered, quite like a good-natured gipsy, conscious of an admiring but skeptical questioner, “I think it would have been neither.” “But what then? What would this sitter have made of it?” “A distraction? An experiment upon himself? I’m sure I don’t know. Indeed, I don’t pretend to know you at all yet. Perhaps I will in time.” Once more he was conscious of the discomfort, slight and stealing, as though the gipsy knew too much already. But he protested, and with sincerity: “If there is anything to find you will certainly find it. I hope that you will find it worth your while. I hope that we shall be great friends.” She smiled up at him, clearly and quietly: “I have always been your great friend.” “Always? All this while?” “All this while. Never mind if you haven’t felt it; I have. I will do for both.” Her smile, her look, made him finally and completely understand the application of the well-worn word to her. She was charming. She could be lavish, pour out unasked bounty upon one, and yet, in no way undervaluing it, be full of delicacy, of humor, in her generosity. “I thought I hadn’t any right to feel it,” said Gavan. “I thought you would not have remembered.” “Well, you will find out--I always remember, it’s my strong point,” said Eppie. IV Next morning at breakfast he had quite a new impression of her. Pale sunlight flooded the square, white room where, in all its dignified complexity of appurtenance, the simple meal was laid out. From the windows one saw the clear sky, the moor, its summer purple turned to rich browns and golds, and, nearer, the griffins with their shields.