A little later Delaine and Elizabeth were sitting side by side on the
garden chairs, four of which could just be fitted into the little railed
platform at the rear of the car. Elizabeth was making herself agreeable,
and doing it, for a time, with energy. Nothing also could have been more
energetic than Delaine's attempts to meet her. He had been studying
Baedeker, and he made intelligent travellers' remarks on the subject of
Southern Saskatchewan. He discussed the American "trek" into the
province from the adjoining States. He understood the new public
buildings of Regina were to be really fine, only to be surpassed by
those at Edmonton. He admired the effects of light and shadow on the
wide expanse; and noticed the peculiarities of the alkaline lakes.

Meanwhile, as he became more expansive, Elizabeth contracted. One would
have thought soon that Canada had ceased to interest her at all. She led
him slyly on to other topics, and presently the real Arthur Delaine
emerged. Had she heard of the most recent Etruscan excavations at
Grosseto? Wonderful! A whole host of new clues! Boni--Lanciani--the
whole learned world in commotion. A fragment of what might very possibly
turn out to be a bi-lingual inscription was the last find. Were we at
last on the brink of solving the old, the eternal enigma?

He threw himself back in his chair, transformed once more into the
talkative, agreeable person that Europe knew. His black and grizzled
hair, falling perpetually forward in strong waves, made a fine frame for
his grey eyes and large, well-cut features. He had a slight stammer,
which increased when he was animated, and a trick of forever pushing
back the troublesome front locks of hair.

Elizabeth listened for a long, long time, and at last--could have cried