Presently he rode past the verandah, waving his hand cheerily. He
was one of those large, hearty Englishmen who seem to be all
appetite and laughter--men who may be said to be manly, and beyond
that nothing. Their manliness is so overpowering that it swallows
up many other qualities which are not out of place in men, such as
tact and thoughtfulness, and PERHAPS intellectuality and the power
to take some interest in those gentler things that interest women.
When Jocelyn came to the back of the verandah she was thinking about
her brother Maurice, and it never suggested itself to her that she
should not speak her thoughts to Meredith, whom she had not seen
until three weeks ago. She had never spoken of Maurice behind his
back to any man before.
"Does it ever strike you," she said, "that Maurice is the sort of
man to be led astray by evil influence?"
"Yes; or to be led straight by a good influence, such as yours."
He did not meet her thoughtful gaze. He was apparently watching the
retreating form of the horse through the tangle of flower and leaf
and tendril.
"I am afraid," said the girl, "that my influence is not of much
account."
"Do you really believe that?" asked Meredith, turning upon her with
a half-cynical smile.
"Yes," she answered simply.
Before speaking again he took a pull at his cigar.
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