"I am charmed with your country, Mr. Mallow," continued Carson, who seemed bent upon making himself agreeable. "After the arid plains of India, these green fields are very refreshing to the eye." "Yet I have seen marvellous verdure in the Himalayas," replied Mallow. Carson shrugged his shoulders. "Oh yes; every land has its season of greenness, you know, but India is undeniably dry." "How do you do, Mr. Mallow," said a voice at the young man's elbow, and he turned to see the lean form of Miss Slarge. "We have quite a large gathering to-day, have we not?--Major Semberry, Dr. Drabble, and Mr. Carson." "Last and least," smiled that gentleman. Mallow laughed also, seemingly out of politeness, and glanced round the drawing-room at the people referred to by Miss Slarge. Major Semberry, a fair, handsome, soldierly man, was paying great attention to Miss Ostergaard, who had apparently forgotten Aldean in the ardour of her present flirtation; and Dr. Drabble, tall and thin as a telegraph-pole, and with about as much figure, was talking loudly with Olive Bellairs. When Laurence withdrew his eyes, Miss Slarge, who was quite modern at the present moment, was chatting with Carson in her high-pitched voice. "My sister, Mrs. Purcell, describes you as being like an Italian," she was saying; "and I quite agree with her--don't you, Mr. Mallow?" "Certainly, Mr. Carson has the appearance of a Tuscan." "My mother was Eurasian," explained the young man; "I am supposed to take after her. There is a great similarity between dark people, don't you think so? Yes?" "Well, putting negroes out of the question, I suppose there is, more or less," assented Mallow. He thought Carson much more like the pure Italian than the Englishman of mixed blood. Certainly there was no hint of the Anglo-Saxon about him. "So Mrs. Purcell has been giving you my character," said Carson, smiling blandly on Miss Slarge. "Oh dear me, yes. She wrote me quite a long account of you--all about your looks, and conversation, and I don't know what else." "Really? I feel flattered by the notice she has taken of me. I confess I should very much like to see that letter." "If you like I will read you those parts of it which refer to you," said Miss Slarge, amiably. "You will see then how keen an observer my sister is. Excuse me, I will fetch the letter."