looking curiously old and forlorn

Half the camps in England are merely the ancient pound or bartonas we call it in my part of the world. The argument that no onewould keep his cattle in such exposed and inaccessible spots hasno weight at all, if you reflect that in those days a man's cattlewere his capital, his stock-in-trade, his daughter's dowries. 　　Without cattle he was a serf, another man's man. . . ." His eyesslowly lost their intensity, and he muttered a few concluding wordsunder his breath, looking curiously old and forlorn. 　　Hughling Elliot, who might have been expected to engage the oldgentleman in argument, was absent at the moment. He now came upholding out a large square of cotton upon which a fine design wasprinted in pleasant bright colours that made his hand look pale. 　　"A bargain," he announced, laying it down on the cloth. "I've justbought it from the big man with the ear-rings. Fine, isn't it? 　　It wouldn't suit every one, of course, but it's just the thing--isn't it, Hilda?--for Mrs. Raymond Parry.""Mrs. Raymond Parry!" cried Helen and Mrs. Thornbury at the same moment. 　　They looked at each other as though a mist hitherto obscuringtheir faces had been blown away. 　　"Ah--you have been to those wonderful parties too?" Mrs. Elliotasked with interest. 　　Mrs. Parry's drawing-room, though thousands of miles away,behind a vast curve of water on a tiny piece of earth, came beforetheir eyes. They who had had no solidity or anchorage before seemedto be attached to it somehow, and at once grown more substantial. 　　Perhaps they had been in the drawing-room at the same moment;perhaps they had passed each other on the stairs; at any rate theyknew some of the same people. They looked one another up and downwith new interest. But they could do no more than look at each other,for there was no time to enjoy the fruits of the discovery.

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