He gazed at her in discomfort. Here was an Elizabeth Merton he had yet to know. No trace of her in the ordinary life of an English country house!
"You are Canadian!" he said with a smile.
"No, no!" said Elizabeth eagerly, recovering herself, "I am only a spectator. We see the drama--we feel it--much more than they can who are in it. At least"--she wavered--"Well!--I have met one man who seems to feel it!"
"Your Canadian friend?"
Elizabeth nodded.
"He sees the vision--he dreams the dream!" she said brightly. "So few do. But I think he does. Oh, dear--dear!--how time flies! I must go and see what Philip is after."
Delaine was left discontented. He had come to press his suit, and he found a lady preoccupied. Canada, it seemed, was to be his rival! Would he ever be allowed to get in a word edgewise?
Was there ever anything so absurd, so disconcerting? He looked forward gloomily to a dull afternoon, in quest of fat cattle, with a car-full of unknown Canadians.