off her hood and a shapeless sleeveless mantle she had worn, went
to the mirror, and proceeded to re-adjust a high horn comb that had
been somewhat displaced by the captain's arm, and otherwise after
the fashion of her sex to remove all traces of a previous lover.
It may be here observed that a man is very apt to come from the
smallest encounter with his dulcinea distrait, bored, or shame-
faced; to forget that his cravat is awry, or that a long blond hair
is adhering to his button. But as to Mademoiselle--well, looking
at Miss Pussy's sleek paws and spotless face, would you ever know
that she had been at the cream-jug?

Thankful was, I think, satisfied with her appearance. Small doubt
but she had reason for it. And yet her gown was a mere slip of
flowered chintz, gathered at the neck, and falling at an angle of
fifteen degrees to within an inch of a short petticoat of gray
flannel. But so surely is the complete mould of symmetry indicated
in the poise or line of any single member, that looking at the
erect carriage of her graceful brown head, or below to the curves
that were lost in her shapely ankles, or the little feet that hid
themselves in the broad-buckled shoes, you knew that the rest was
as genuine and beautiful.

Mistress Thankful, after a pause, opened the door, and listened.
Then she softly slipped down the back staircase to the front hall.
It was dark; but the door of the "company-room," or parlor, was
faintly indicated by the light that streamed beneath it. She stood
still for a moment hesitatingly, when suddenly a hand grasped her
own, and half led, half dragged her, into the sitting-room
opposite. It was dark. There was a momentary fumbling for the
tinder-box and flint, a muttered oath over one or two impeding