t the cap.

The philosopher (I would keep him back if I could) bids us mark that
the crown and flower of the nervous system, the head, is necessarily
sensitive, and to that degree that whatsoever we place on it, does, for
a certain period, change and shape us. Of course the instant we call up
the forces of the brain, much of the impression departs but what remains
is powerful, and fine-nerved. Woman is especially subject to it. A girl
may put on her brother's boots, and they will not affect her spirit
strongly; but as soon as she puts on her brother's hat, she gives him a
manly nod. The same philosopher who fathers his dulness on me, asserts
that the modern vice or fastness ('Trotting on the Epicene Border,' he
has it) is bred by apparently harmless practices of this description. He
offers to turn the current of a Republican's brain, by resting a coronet
on his forehead for just five seconds.

Howsoever these things be, it was true that Emilia's feet presently
crossed, and she was soon to be seen with her right elbow doubled
against her head as she leaned to the wall, and the little left fist
stuck at her belt. And I maintain that she had no sense at all of acting
Spanish prince disguised as page. Nor had she an idea that she was
making her friend Wilfrid's heart perform to her lightest words and
actions, like any trained milk-white steed in a circus. Sunlight, as
well as Wilfrid's braided cap, had some magical influence on her. He
assured her that she looked a charming boy, and she said, "Do I?" just
lifting her chin.

A gardener was shaving the lawn.

"Please, spare those daisies," cried Emilia. "Why do you cut away
daisies?"

The gardener objected that he really must make the lawn smooth. Emilia
called to Adela, who came, and hearing the case, said: "Now this is
nice of you. I like you to love daisies and wish to protect them. They
disfigure a lawn, you know." And Adela stooped, and picked one, and
called it a pet name, and dropped it.

She returned to her sisters in the conservatory, and meeting Mr. Barren
at the door, made the incident a topic. "You know how greatly our Emilia
rejoices us when she shows sentiment, and our thirst is to direct her to
appreciate Nature in its humility as well as its grandeur."

"One expects her to have all poetical feelings," said Mr. Barrett, while
they walked forth to the lawn sloping to the tufted park grass.

Cornelia said: "You have read Mr. Runningbrook's story?"

"Ye