majestic--beautiful after no ordinary standard of beauty. She was
a brunette, with large dark eyes, which, though bright, seemed dark
with excess of bright--and had a depth of expression which thrilled
instantly through the bosom of the spectator. A single glance did
she bestow upon the travellers, while she acknowledged, by a slight
courtesy, the respectful bow which they made her. They drew up
their horses as with mutual instinct, but she passed them quickly,
courtesying a second time as she did so, and, in another moment a
turn of the road concealed her from the eyes of the travellers.

"What say you to that, Warham?" demanded the senior exultingly.

"A Diana, in truth; but, uncle, we find her not among the rest.
SHE is none of your cottagers. SHE is of another world and element.
She is no Charlemonter."

And, as he spoke, the younger traveller looked back with straining
eyes to catch another glanco of the vanished object, but in vain.

"You deserve never to see a lovely woman again, Warham, for your
skepticism."

"But I will have a second look at her, uncle, though the skies
fall," answered the young man, as, wheeling his horse round, he
deliberately galloped back to the bend in the avenue, by which she
had been hidden from his view.

He had scarcely reached the desired point, when he suddenly recoiled
to find the object of his pursuit standing motionless just beyond,
with eyes averted to the backward path--her glance consequently