te that good example, by revising my
restored entry. It is now a sufficiently remarkable performance to be
distinguished by a title. Let me call it:

Impressions of Miss Jillgall. My first impression was a strong one--it
was produced by the state of this lady's breath. In other words, I was
obliged to let her kiss me. It is a duty to be considerate toward human
infirmity. I will only say that I thought I should have fainted.

My second impression draws a portrait, and produces a striking likeness.

Figure, little and lean--hair of a dirty drab color which we see in
string--small light gray eyes, sly and restless, and deeply sunk in
the head--prominent cheekbones, and a florid complexion--an
inquisitive nose, turning up at the end--a large mouth and a servile
smile--raw-looking hands, decorated with black mittens--a misfitting
white jacket and a limp skirt--manners familiar--temper cleverly
hidden--voice too irritating to be mentioned. Whose portrait is this? It
is the portrait of Miss Jillgall, taken in words.

Her true character is not easy to discover; I suspect that it will
only show itself little by little. That she is a born meddler in other
people's affairs, I think I can see already. I also found out that she
trusted to flattery as the easiest means of making herself agreeable.
She tried her first experiment on myself.

"You charming girl," she began, "your bright face encourages me to ask
a favor. Pray make me useful! The one aspiration of my life is to be
useful. Unless you employ me in that way, I have no right to intrude
myself into your family circle. Yes, yes, I know that your father
has opened his house and his heart to me. But I dare not found any
claim--your name is Helena, isn't it? Dear Helena, I dare not found any
claim on what I owe to your father's kindness."

"Why not?" I inquired.

"Because your father is not a man--"

I was rude enough to interrupt her: "What is he, then?"

"An angel," Miss Jillgall answered, solemnly. "A destitute earthly
creature like me must not look up as high as your father. I might be
dazzled."

This was rather more than I could endure patiently. "Let us try," I
suggested, "if we can't understand each other, at starting."

Miss Jillgall's little eyes twinkled in their bony caverns. "The very
thing I was going to propose!" she burst out.

"Very well," I went on; "then, let me tell you plainly that flattery is
not relished in this house."

"Flattery?" She put