Half-turning, she had leaned a little, as a flower leans, to the warmth
of the sunlight, uplifting her face for its kiss. She was not beautiful
in any sense of regularity of outline or perfection of feature, so much
as lovely, with the lustrous loveliness which defiantly overrides the
lapse of line and proportion, and imperiously demands the homage of
every man born of woman. Chill analysis might have judged the mouth,
with its delicate, humorous quirk at the corners, too large; the chin
too broad, for all its adorable baby dimple; the line of the nose too
abrupt, the wider contours lacking something of classic exactitude. But
the chillest analysis must have warmed to enthusiasm at the eyes;
wide-set, level, and of a tawny hazel, with strange, wine-brown lights
in their depths, to match the brownish-golden sheen of the hair, where
the sun glinted from it. As it were a higher power of her physical
splendor, there emanated from the girl an intensity and radiance of joy
in being alive and lovely.

Involuntarily Hal Surtaine paused as he approached her. Her glance fell
upon him, not with the impersonal regard bestowed upon a casual
passer-by, but with an intent and brightening interest,--the thrill of
the chase, had he but known it,--and passed beyond him again. But in
that brief moment, the conviction was borne in upon him that sometime,
somewhere, he had looked into those eyes before. Puzzled and eager he
still stared, until, with a slight flush, she moved forward and passed
him. At the head of the stairs he saw her greet a strongly built,
grizzled man; and then became aware of his father beckoning to him from
the automobile.

"Bewitched, Hal?" said Dr. Surtaine as his son came to him.