"Tell me what you read!" he begged, after a moment. "Perhaps you will know better than I myself. I am almost sure you will."
"I read disappointment," she answered. "Was that so?"
His brows contracted slightly.
"I was disappointed," he admitted, "but that was my own fault. I had never met English people—only heard of them. What I had heard made me imagine things which it seems have no reality."
"Did you expect demigods?" she asked.
"I do not know what I expected—but it was something different. You know the men I have met to-day. Are they all great-hearted and brave?"
She did not laugh at the question, though there was cause enough to have excused it.
"I can not tell you," she answered. "Only circumstances can bring such virtues to light, and hitherto the circumstances have been lacking. All men do not wear their heart on their sleeve," she answered, not without malice.
He nodded.
"I am glad to hear you say that, for no doubt you are right. I am very ignorant, I fear, and was foolish enough to expect heroes to have the face and figure of heroes. It grieved me for a moment to find that I was the tallest and best-looking among them. Now that you have explained, I see that the greatness lies beneath."