Her flash of anger against the one in defense of the other passed away, its place being taken by a feeling that astonished her quite as much. She tried to think it no more than a pang of jealousy at seeing her own countryman snubbed by a foreigner. She was familiar with the sensation from her European, and especially her English, experiences. At an unfriendly criticism it could be roused on behalf of a chance stranger from Colorado or California, and was generally quite impersonal. She told herself that it was impersonal now, that she would have had the same impulse of protection, of championship, for any one.
Nevertheless, there was a tone in her voice as she joined him that struck a new note in their acquaintanceship.
"I'm glad you came when you did. I wanted you to meet Colonel Ashley. You'll like him when you know him better. Just at first he was a little embarrassed. We'd been talking of things—"
"I didn't notice anything—that is, anything different from any other Englishman."
"Yes; that's it, isn't it? Meeting an Englishman is often like the first plunge into a cold bath—chilling at first, but delightful afterward."
He stopped under the portico, to say with a laugh that was not quite spontaneous: "Yes; I dare say. But my experience is limited. I've never got to the—afterward."
"Oh, well, you will," she said, encouragingly, "now that you know Colonel Ashley."
"I've heard of men plunging into a cold bath and finding it so icy that they've popped out again."
"Yes; thin-blooded men, who are sensitive to chills. Not men like you."
They entered the house, lingering in the oval sitting-room through which they had to pass.