i was more and more interested by rachel as the days went on. a man must be stupid who does not know that a woman is happy in his presence, and for two years now and more i had met no one with a very strong personal feeling for me. and quite apart from that, her mind was extraordinarily interesting to me because it was at once so active and so clear and so limited by her entirely english circumstances. she had the prosperous english outlook. she didn't so much see the wide world as get glimpses of it through the tangle of westminster and of west end and week-end limitations. she wasn't even aware of that greater unprosperous england, already sulking and darkling outside her political world, that greater england which was presently to make its first audible intimations of discontent in that remarkable anti-climax to king george's coronation, the railway strike. india for her was the land of people's cousins, germany and the german dreadnoughts bulked far larger, and all the tremendous gathering forces of the east were beyond the range of her imagination. i set myself to widen her horizons.

i told her something of the intention and range of my travels, and something of the views that were growing out of their experiences.

i have a clear little picture in my mind of an excursion we made to that huge national denkmal which rears its head out of the amiable vineyards of assmannshausen and rudesheim over against bingen. we landed at the former place, went up its little funicular to eat our lunch and drink its red wine at the pleasant inn above, and then strolled along through the woods to the monument.

the fürstin fell behind with her unwilling escort, a newly arrived medical student from england, a very pleasant youngster named berwick, who was all too obviously anxious to change places with me. she devised delays, and meanwhile i, as yet unaware of the state of affairs, went on with rachel to that towering florid monument with its vast gesticulating germania, which triumphs over the conquered provinces.

we fell talking of war and the passions and delusions that lead to war. rachel's thoughts were strongly colored by those ideas of a natural rivalry between germany and england and of a necessary revenge for france which have for nearly forty years diverted the bulk of european thought and energy to the mere waste of military preparations. i jarred with an edifice of preconceptions when i scoffed and scolded at these assumptions.

"our two great peoples are disputing for the leadership of the world," i said, "and meanwhile the whole world sweeps past us. we're drifting into a quarrelsome backwater."

i began to tell of the fermentation and new beginnings that were everywhere perceptible throughout the east, of the vast masses of human ability and energy that were coming into action in china and india, of the unlimited future of both north and south america, of the mere accidentalness of the european advantage. "history," i said, "is already shifting the significance out of western europe altogether, and we english cannot see it; we can see no further than berlin, and these germans can think of nothing better than to taunt the french with such tawdry effigies as this! europe goes on to-day as india went on in the eighteenth century, making aimless history. and the sands of opportunity run and run...."

i shrugged my shoulders and we stood for a little while looking down on the shining crescent of the rhine.

"suppose," said rachel, "that someone were to say that—in the house."

"the house," i said, "doesn't hear things at my pitch. bat outcries. too shrill altogether."

"it might. if you——"

she halted, hesitated for a moment on the question and asked abruptly:

"when are you coming back to england, mr. stratton?"

"certainly not for six months," i said.

a movement of her eyes made me aware of the fürstin and berwick emerging from the trees. "and then?" asked rachel.

i didn't want to answer that question, in which the personal note sounded so clearly. "i am going to america to see america," i said, "and america may be rather a big thing to see."

"you must see it?"

"i want to be sure of it—as something comprehensive. i want to get a general effect of it...."

rachel hesitated, looked back to measure the distance of the fürstin and her companion and put her question again, but this time with a significance that did not seem even to want to hide itself. "then will you come back?" she said.

her face flamed scarlet, but her eyes met mine boldly. between us there was a flash of complete understanding.

my answer, if it was lame and ungallant to such a challenge, was at least perfectly honest. "i can't make up my mind," i said. "i've been near making plans—taking steps.... something holds me back...."

i had no time for an explanation.

"i can't make up my mind," i repeated.

she stood for a moment rather stiffly, staring away towards the blue hills of alsace.

then she turned with a smiling and undisturbed countenance to the fürstin. her crimson had given place to white. "the triumph of it," she said with a slight gesture to the flamboyant teutonism that towered over us, and boldly repeating words i had used scarcely five minutes before, "makes me angry. they conquered—ungraciously...."

she had overlooked something in her effort to seem entirely self-possessed. she collapsed. "my dear!" she cried,—"i forgot!"

"oh! i'm only a german by marriage!" cried the fürstin. "and i can assure you i quite understand—about the triumph of it...." she surveyed the achievement of her countrymen. "it is—ungracious. but indeed it's only a sort of artlessness if you see the thing properly.... it's not vulgarity—it's childishness.... they've hardly got over it yet—their intense astonishment at being any good at war.... that large throaty victory! she's not so militant as she seems. she's too plump.... of course what a german really appreciates is nutrition. but i quite agree with you both.... i'm beginning to want my tea, mr. stratton.... rachel!"

her eyes had been on rachel as she chattered. the girl had turned to the distant hills again, and had forgotten even to pretend to listen to the answer she had evoked. now she came back sharply to the sound of her name.

"tea?" said the fürstin.

"oh!" cried rachel. "yes. yes, certainly. rather. tea."