to the pictured face of a young man which was very
attractive. The countenance was full of force, and though the
personality was at a stand-still, "pulled up" for the second in which
it was taken, it was both an expressive and an impressive personality.
For the bit of prepared paper had caught something of that _fiery
particle_, that "little more" which in the real man was doubtless a
power going from him and drawing others to him, in spite of their own
resolves and inclinations.

She held the photograph in her hand, and looked earnestly at it. As
she did so, Harry Filmer stepped between the folds of pale blue plush
which shielded the doorway. He stood motionless and watched Adriana.
The mirror showed him at a glance beauty of a high and unusual kind.
He took rapid note of every element of it--the thick dark hair drawn
backward from the broad white brow--the white drooping eyelids,
heavily fringed--the richly-colored oval face--the bow-shaped
lips--the rounded chin--the straight white throat--the tall figure
robed in soft, white silk, with purple pansies at the bosom and
belt--and most of all, the air of freshness and of grave harmonious
loveliness which environed her. He could have gazed his heart away;
but in a few moments Adriana felt the unseen influence and turned. The
presentment was still in her hand; the living man stood before her.

She put the picture back into the portfolio, and advanced a step or
two. Harry bowed, and was at her side in a moment.

"I am sure you are Miss Van Hoosen," he said, with a pleasant smile;
"mother told me about you. And Rose has told me a great deal about
you. So, you see, we are old acquaintances. Is it not a most perfect
day? Have you been riding, or walking? Or has Rose kept you all day
'talking over things'?"

He was really nervous under Adriana's smiling eyes, and he felt it
easier to go on talking than to take the next step. Fortunately Rose
entered at the proper moment, and put every one conventionally at
ease. And if people eating a good dinner together cannot get agreeably
familiar, then there is something radically wrong with one-half the
company, and perhaps also with the other.

Now, women are undoubtedly different beings in the presence of men.
Adriana was a new Adriana to Rose. She was more mentally alert, more
assured and dignified in manner, and she even contradicted Harry in
many things. But then she had an agreeable way of dealing with those
from whom she di