Dick laughed.
"I don't know that it makes much difference, but I was playing cards," he said.
"Losing money ye could not afford!"
They drove away in a high-wheeled trap that is locally called a machine. Andrew had set off in a serious mood, but it was difficult to continue thoughtful in Dick's society, and he enlivened the way as they followed the winding river. It led them up a long valley, past turnip-fields, smooth pasture, and alder-fringed pools. The soil was well tilled on their bank, but across the stream, birchwoods turning yellow straggled up the barren hill slopes, and to the north, rugged fells rose dark against the sky. By degrees the landscape changed. There was less cultivation and the woods got thinner. Rough heath ran down to the river, which foamed and brawled among the stones, and white tufts of wild cotton shone among the peat. They were climbing to a desolation of moor and bog that looked strangely wild and lonely in the fading light. Then, as the shadows closed upon the wilderness, lights blinked among the firs in a glen, a lodge gate was opened, and a smooth drive led them to a straggling modern house.
They were hospitably welcomed, and Andrew liked his host, a genial, gray-haired man who had lately retired from business to spend his well-earned leisure in outdoor sports. Whitney's mother and sister also impressed him favorably. Mrs. Whitney was quiet and dignified, and there was a touch of stateliness in Madge's refined beauty. At first, Andrew felt shy of her and left her to Dick, but she soon set him at his ease. Madge rang true, and he found that she could be remarkably frank.
On the evening after his arrival he strolled along the terrace talking to her. A soft red glow still shone behind the firs that straggled up the western end of the glen and the air was cool and still. They could hear a little burn splashing in the shadow and the river tumbling among the stones.
"How do you like this place?" Andrew asked. "From what I've seen of your country this is a change."
"Yes," Madge said; "it's quiet. When we rusticate in the wilds we take a troop of friends along. The environment we're used to goes with us. Perhaps that's why I don't harmonize with a natural background as some of your people do. Here, for instance, I feel I'm an exotic."
"Exotics are generally beautiful and one likes them for their glow and color. Ours is a land of neutral tints and I dare say it has an effect upon our character."
Madge laughed.