to examine the outline of her nose or the curve of the
exquisitely short upper lip.

But the plain truth was that there was no extravagant joy at all in
Miss White's face, but a very slight and perhaps pleased surprise; and
she was not in the least embarrassed.

"Are you looking for Mrs. Ross," said she, "like myself?"

"Yes," said he; and then he found himself exceedingly anxious to say a
great deal to her, without knowing where to begin. She had surprised him
too much--as usual. She was so different from what he had been dreaming
about. Here was no one of the imaginary creatures that had risen before
his mind during the stillness of the night. Even the pale dreamer in
black and blue beads was gone. He found before him (as far as he could
make out) a quiet, bright-faced, self-possessed girl, clad in a light
and cool costume of white, with bits of black velvet about it; and her
white gloves and sunshade, and the white silver chain round her slender
waist, were important features in the picture she presented. How could
this eager student of character get rid of the distressing trivialities?
All night long he had been dreaming of beautiful sentiments and
conflicting emotions: now his first thought was that he had never seen
any costume so delightfully cool, and clear, and summer-like. To look at
her was to think of a mountain spring, icy cold even in the sunshine.

"I always come early," said she, in the most matter-of-fact way. "I
cannot bear hurry in catching a train."

Of course not. How could any one associate rattling cabs, and excited
porters, and frantic mobs with this serene creature, who seemed to have
been wafted to Charing Cross on a cloud? And if he had had his will,
there would have been no special train to disturb her repose. She would
have embarked in a noble barge, and lain upon couches of swans-down, and
ample awnings of silk would have sheltered her from the sun, while the
beautiful craft floated away down the river, its crimson hangings here
and there just touching the rippling waters.

"Ought we to take tickets?"

That was what she actually said; but what those eloquent, innocent eyes
seemed to say was, "_Can you read what we have to tell you? Don't you
know what a simple and confiding soul appeals to you?--clear as the
daylight in its truth. Cannot you look through us and see the trusting,
tender soul within?_"

"Perhaps we had better wait for Colonel Ross," said he; and there was a
little p