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 rugged intellectuality and an ever-present kindliness of expression. The eyes were of a clear blue-gray, and set well apart; the hair and crisp mustache brown, flecked with gray. His skin, from long exposure, was seamed in hundreds of crossed lines and tanned to the color of saddle leather. Virginia had expected to meet an elderly man of physique which bore evidences of the racking effects of extremes of climate, for she had heard Sir Henry mention the fact that Leyden was addicted to chronic malarial fever as the result of multiple exposures; she was astonished to find a man of still youthful appearance and a grade of physical and masculine beauty which would anywhere attract the eye.

Leyden pleased Virginia; his words and courtly way of saying them; his manner, appearance, all aroused her interest; from the first glance he inspired her with friendship, confidence, respect. She was anxious to appear well in his eyes; was desirous of his esteem, yet felt instinctively that his atmosphere was her natural medium; to sum up, they were sympathetic. She felt that she could be entirely natural with him.

"Have you seen Giles, Dr. Leyden?" she asked. "He wished to be told the instant you arrived."

"He has but come from the stables," said Leyden. "I have not seen him; I fancy he is dressing. He will be down directly; it is probable that he knows of my arrival."

Sir Henry laughed. "My dear Maurits," he said, "I see that you are still the same." He turned to Virginia. "You must know, my dear, that Dr. Leyden is a bushman—a tracker—one of those marvelous people who will look at a wisp of straw and tell you that your neigh- 66