She could see his feet under the bureau, and sometimes the top of his head.

Oh, of course, he had a way with him--a certain magnetism--for the people who liked him, and whom he liked.

Lady Maud, for instance--how well they had got on at breakfast?
Naturally, she thought him adorable.

And Lady Maud's girl.

To see Buntingford showing her the butterfly collections in the library--devoting himself to her--and the little thing blushing and smiling--it was simply idyllic! And then to contrast the scene with that other scene, in the same room, the day before! "Well, now, what am I going to do here--or in town ?" she asked herself in exasperation.