nand　he　was　looking　at　me！　I　could　scarcely　believe　it　for　a　second。　　But　he　was。　　His　eyeshis　wonderful　eyesmet　mine。　　I　could　not　explain　why　they　were　wonderful。　　I　think　it　was　the　clearness　and　understanding　in　them；　and　a　sort　of　great　interestedness。　　People　sometimes　look　at　me　from　curiosity；　but　they　do　not　look　because　they　are　really　interested。
  I　could　scarcely　look　away；　though　I　knew　I　must　not　be　guilty　of　staring。　　A　footman　was　presenting　a　dish　at　my　side。　　I　took　something　from　it　without　knowing　what　it　was。　　Lord　Armour　began　to　talk　kindly。　　He　was　saying　beautiful；　admiring　things　of　Mr。　MacNairn　and　his　work。　　I　listened　gratefully；　and　said　a　few　words　myself　now　and　then。　　I　was　only　too　glad　to　be　told　of　the　great　people　and　the　small　ones　who　were　moved　and　uplifted　by　his　thoughts。
  〃You　admire　him　very　much；　I　can　see；〃　the　amiable　elderly　voice　said。
  I　could　not　help　turning　and　looking　up。　　〃It　is　as　if　a　great；　great　genius　were　one's　friend　as　if　he　talked　and　one　listened；〃　I　said。　　〃He　is　like　a　splendid　dream　which　has　come　true。〃
  Old　Lord　Armour　looked　at　me　quite　thoughtfully；　as　if　he　saw　something　new　in　me。
  〃That　is　a　good　way　of　putting　it；　Miss　Muircarrie；〃　he　answered。　　〃MacNairn　would　like　that。　　You　must　tell　him　about　it　yourself。〃
  I　did　not　mean　to　glance　through　the　flowers　again；　but　I　did　it　involuntarily。　　And　I　met　the　other　eyesthe　wonderful；　interested　ones　just　as　I　had　met　them　before。　　It　almost　seemed　as　if　he　had　been　watching　me。　　It　might　be；　I　thought；　because　he　only　vaguely　remembered　seeing　me　before　and　was　trying　to　recall　where　we　had　met。
  When　my　guardian　brought　his　men　guests　to　the　drawing…room　after　dinner；　I　was　looking　over　some　old　prints　at　a　quiet；　small　table。　　There　were　a　few　minutes　of　smiling　talk；　and　then　Sir　Ian　crossed　the　room　toward　me；　bringing　some　one　with　him。　　It　was　Hector　MacNairn　he　brought。
  〃Mr。　MacNairn　tells　me　you　traveled　together　this　afternoon　without　knowing　each　other；〃　he　said。　　〃He　has　heard　something　of　Muircarrie　and　would　like　to　hear　more；　Ysobel。　　She　lives　like　a　little　ghost　all　alone　in　her　feudal　castle；　Mr。　MacNairn。　　We　can't　persuade　her　to　like　London。〃
  I　think　he　left　us　alone　together　because　he　realized　that　we　should　get　on　better　without　a　companion。
  Mr。　MacNairn　sat　down　near　me　and　began　to　talk　about　Muircarrie。　　There　were　very　few　places　like　it；　and　he　knew　about　each　one　of　them。　　He　knew　the　kind　of　things　Angus　Macayre　knewthe　things　most　people　had　either　never　heard　of　or　had　only　thought　of　as　legends。　　He　talked　as　he　wrote；　and　I　scarcely　knew　when　he　led　me　into　talking　also。　　Afterward　I　realized　that　he　had　asked　me　questions　I　could　not　help　answering　because　his　eyes　were　drawing　me　on　with　that　quiet；　deep　interest。　　It　seemed　as　if　he　saw　something　in　my　face　which　made　him　curious。
  I　think　I　saw　this　expression　first　when　we　began　to　speak　of　our　meeting　in　the　railway　carriage；　and　I　mentioned　the　poor　little　fair　child　my　heart　had　ached　so　for。
  〃It　was　such　a　little　thing　and　it　did　so　want　to　comfort　her！　　Its　white　little　clinging　hands　were　so　pathetic　when　they　stroked　and　patted　her；〃　I　said。　　〃And　she　did　not　even　look　at　it。〃
  He　did　not　start；　but　he　hesitated　in　a　way　which　almost　produced　the　effect　of　a　start。　　Long　afterward　I　remembered　it。
  〃The　child！〃　he　said。　　〃Yes。　　But　I　was　sitting　on　the　other　side。　　And　I　was　so　absorbed　in　the　poor　mother　that　I　am　afraid　I　scarcely　saw　it。　　Tell　me　about　it。〃
  〃It　was　not　six　years　old；　poor　mite；〃　I　answered。　　〃It　was　one　of　those　very　fair　children　one　sees　now　and　then。　　It　was　not　like　its　mother。　　She　was　not　one　of　the　White　People。〃
  〃The　White　People？〃　he　repeated　quite　slowly　after　me。　　〃You　don't　mean　that　she　was　not　a　Caucasian？　　Perhaps　I　don't　understand。〃
  That　made　me　feel　a　trifle　shy　again。　　Of　course　he　could　not　know　what　I　meant。　　How　silly　of　me　to　take　it　for　granted　that　he　would！
  〃I　beg　pardon。　　I　forgot；〃　I　even　stammered　a　little。　　〃It　is　only　my　way　of　thinking　of　those　fair　people　one　sees；　those　very　fair　ones；　you　knowthe　ones　whose　fairness　looks　almost　transparent。　　There　are　not　many　of　them；　of　course；　but　one　can't　help　noticing　them　when　they　pass　in　the　street　or　come　into　a　room。　　You　must　have　noticed　them；　too。　　I　always　call　them；　to　myself；　the　White　People；　because　they　are　different　from　the　rest　of　us。　　The　poor　mother　wasn't　one；　but　the　child　was。　　Perhaps　that　was　why　I　looked　at　it；　at　first。　　It　was　such　a　lovely　little　thing；　and　the　whiteness　made　it　look　delicate；　and　I　could　not　help　thinking〃　　I　hesitated；　because　it　seemed　almost　unkind　to　finish。
  〃You　thought　that　if　she　had　just　lost　one　child　she　ought　to　take　more　care　of　the　other；〃　he　ended　for　me。　　There　was　a　deep　thoughtfulness　in　his　look；　as　if　he　were　watching　me。　　I　wondered　why。
  〃I　wish　I　had　paid　more　attention　to　the　little　creature；〃　he　said；　very　gently。　　〃Did　it　cry？〃
  〃No；〃　I　answered。　　〃It　only　clung　to　her　and　patted　her　black　sleeve　and　kissed　it；　as　if　it　wanted　to　comfort　her。　　I　kept　expecting　it　to　cry；　but　it　didn't。　　It　made　me　cry　because　it　seemed　so　sure　that　it　could　comfort　her　if　she　would　only　remember　that　it　was　alive　and　loved　her。　　I　wish；　I　wish　death　did　not　make　people　feel　as　if　it　filled　all　the　worldas　if；　when　it　happens；　there　is　no　life　left　anywhere。　　The　child　who　was　alive　by　her　side　did　not　seem　a　living　thing　to　her。　　It　didn't　matter。〃
  I　had　never　said　as　much　to　any　one　before；　but　his　watching　eyes　made　me　forget　my　shy　worldlessness。
  〃What　do　you　feel　about　itdeath？〃　he　asked。
  The　low　gentleness　of　his　voice　seemed　something　I　had　known　always。
  〃I　never　saw　it；〃　I　answered。　　〃I　have　never　even　seen　any　one　dangerously　ill。　　I　It　is　as　if　I　can't　believe　it。〃
  〃You　can't　believe　it？　　That　is　a　wonderful　thing；〃　he　said；　even　more　quietly　than　before。
  〃If　none　of　us　believed；　how　wonderful　that　would　be！　　Beautiful；　too。〃
  〃How　that　poor　mother　believed　it！〃　I　said；　remembering　her　swollen；　distorted；　sobbing　face。　　〃She　believed　nothing　else；　everything　else　was　gone。〃
  〃I　wonder　what　would　have　happened　if　you　had　spoken　to　her　about　the　child？〃　he　said；　slowly；　as　if　he　were　trying　to　imagine　it。
  〃I'm　a　very　shy　person。　　I　should　never　have　courage　to　speak　to　a　stranger；〃　I　answered。
  〃I'm　afraid　I'm　a　coward；　too。　　She　might　have　thought　me　interfering。〃
  〃She　might　not　have　understood；〃　he　murmured。
  〃It　was　clinging　to　her　dress　when　she　walked　away　down　the　platform；〃　I　went　on。　　〃I　dare　say　you　noticed　it　then？〃
  〃Not　as　you　did。　　I　wish　I　had　noticed　it　more；〃　was　his　answer。　　〃Poor　little　White　One！〃
  That　led　us　into　our　talk　about　the　White　People。　　He　said　he　did　not　think　he　was　exactly　an　observant　person　in　some　respects。　　Remembering　his　books；　which　seemed　to　me　the　work　of　a　man　who　saw　and　understood　everything　in　the　world；　I　could　not　comprehend　his　thinking　that；　and　I　told　him　so。　　But　he　replied　that　what　I　had　said　about　my　White　People　made　him　feel　that　he　must　be　abstracted　sometimes　and　miss　things。　　He　did　not　remember　having　noticed　the　rare　fairness　I　had　seen。　　He　smiled　as　he　said　it；　because；　of　course；　it　was　only　a　little　thing　that　he　had　not　seen　that　some　people　were　so　much　fairer　than　others。
  〃But　it　has　not　been　a　little　thing　to　you；　evidently。　　That　is　why　I　am　even　rather　curious　about　it；〃　he　explained。　　〃It　is　a　difference　definite　enough　to　make　you　speak　almost　as　if　they　were　of　a　different　race　from　ours。〃
  I　sat　silent　a　few　seconds；　thinking　it　over。　　Suddenly　I　realized　what　I　had　never　realized　before。
  〃Do　you　know；〃　I　said；　as　slowly　as　he　himself　had　spoken；　〃I　did　not　know　that　was　true　until　you　put　it　into　words。　　I　am　so　used　to　thinking　of　them　as　different；　somehow；　that　I　suppose　I　do　feel　as　if　they　were　almost　like　another　race；　in　a　way。　　Perhaps　one　would　feel　like　that　with　a　native　Indian；　or　a　Japanese。〃
  〃I　dare　say　that　is　a　good　simile；〃　he　reflected。　　〃Are　they　different　when　you　know　them　well？〃
  〃I　have　never　known　one　but　Wee　Brown　Elspeth；〃　I　answered；　thinking　it　over。
  He　did　start　then；　in　the　strangest　way。
  〃What！〃　he　exclaimed。　　〃What　did　you　say？〃
  I　was　quite　startled　myself。　　Suddenly　he　looked　pale；　and　his　breath　caught　itself。
  〃I　said　Wee　Elspeth；　Wee　Brown　Elspeth。　　She　was　only　a　child　who　played　with　me；〃　I　stammered；　〃when　I　was　little。〃
  He　pulled　himself　together　almost　instantly；　though　the　color　did　not　come　back　to　his　face　at　once　and　his　voice　was　not　steady　for　a　few　seconds。　　But　he　laughed　outright　at　himself。
  〃I　beg　your　pardon；〃　he　apologized。　　〃I　have　been　ill　and　am　rather　nervous。　　I　thought　you　said　something　you　could　not　possibly　have　said。　　I　almost　frightened　you。　　And　you　were　only　speaking　of　a　little　playmate。　　Please　go　on。〃
  〃I　was　only　going　to　say　that　she　was　fair　like　that；　fairer　than　any　one　I　had　ever　seen；　but　when　we　played　together　she　seemed　like　any　other　child。　　She　was　the　first　I　ever　knew。〃
  I　told　him　about　the　misty　day　on　the　moor；　and　about　the　pale　troopers　and　the　big；　lean　leader　who　carried　Elspeth　before