"The Arabs found it in Palestine and took it to Northern Africa as the

Moslem conquest spread. The cube, however, isn't beautiful, and the Moors

elaborated it, as the Greeks had done, but in a different way. The latter

broke the square from the cornices and pillars; the Moors with the

Saracenic arch, minarets, and fretted stone, and then forced their model

upon Spain. Still the primitive type survives longest and the Spaniards

brought that to the New World."

"No doubt, it's the explanation. But the high, red roofs yonder aren't

Moorish. The flat top would suit the dry East, but these indicate a

country where they need a pitch that will shed the rain and snow. In fact

one would imagine that the original model came from Germany."

"It really did. Spain was overrun by the Visigoths, who were Teutons."

"Well," said Dick, "this is interesting. I'm not an architect, but

construction's my business, as well as my hobby."

"Then don't you think you are a fortunate man?"

"In a sense, perhaps," Dick answered. "Still, that's no reason you should

be bored for my entertainment." He paused and resumed: "I'm grateful

because you mean to be kind, as you were the night I met you first at the

tent. Although you had heard my story, I saw you wanted to make me feel I

was being given a fresh start."

Ida studied him with a thoughtful calm that he found embarrassing.

"Perhaps I did, but suppose we talk about something else."

"Very well. If it's not bad form, I wasn't in the least astonished by

your lecture about the roofs, because one finds your people have a

breadth of knowledge that's remarkable. I once showed an old abbey near

our place at home to some American tourists, and soon saw they knew more

about its history than I did. There was a girl of seventeen who corrected

me once or twice, and when I went to the library I found that she was

right. The curious thing is that you're, so to speak, rather parochial

with it all. One of my American employers treated me pretty well until he

had to make some changes in his business. Took me to his house now and

then, and I found his wife and daughters knew the old French and Italian

cities. Yet they thought them far behind Marlin Bluff, which is really a

horribly ugly place."

"I know it," said Ida, laughing. "Still, the physical attractiveness of a

town isn't it's only charm. Besides, are you sure you don't mean

patriotic when you say parochial? You ought to sympathize with the former

feeling."

"I don't know. Patriotism is difficult when your country has no use for

you."

Ida did not reply, and it was a few minutes later when she said: "I'm

glad I met you to-night, because we go home soon and there's a favor I

want to ask. My brother is coming out to take a post on the irrigation

work and I want you to look after him."




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