fashion introduced by the late war, was
cropped close. But what especially moved
Miss Grace were those long, lazy blue eyes,
which seemed to tolerate everything, but to
be interested in nothing,--hardly even in
her. Now, Grace could not help knowing
she was a pretty girl, and it was somewhat
of a novelty to her that Freeman should
appear so indifferent. It would have been
difficult to devise a better opportunity than
this to monopolize masculine admiration,
and she fell to speculating as to what sort of
an experience Mr. Freeman must have had,
so to panoply him against her magic. On
the other hand, she was the recipient of
whatever attentions he could bring himself
to detach from the horizon-line, or from his
own thoughts (which appeared to amount,
practically, to about the same thing). She
had no other rivals; and a woman will submit
amiably to a good deal of indifference,
provided she be assured that no other woman
is enjoying what she lacks.

Freeman, for his part, had nothing to
complain of. Grace Parsloe was a singularly
pretty girl. Singular properly qualifies
her. She was not like the others,--by
which phrase he epitomized the numerous
comely young women whom he had, at