Josephine Thorn and John Harrington were fair examples of their
nationalities. Josephine believed in England and the English; John
Harrington believed in America and the Americans. How far England and
America are ever likely to believe in each other, however, is a question
of future history and not of past experience, and any reasonable amount of
doubt may be cast upon the possibility of such mutual confidence.

But as Josephine stood watching John Harrington while he opened the
drawing-room door for the visitor to go out, she thought of none of these
things. She certainly did not consider herself a type of her nation--a
distinction to which few English people aspire--and she as certainly would
have denied that the man before her was a type of the modern American.

John remained standing when the lady was gone.

"Do sit down," said Miss Schenectady, settling herself once more in her
corner.

"Thank you, I think I must be going now," answered John. "It is late." As
he spoke he turned toward Miss Thorn, and for the first time saw her under
the bright light of the old-fashioned gas chandelier.

The young girl was perhaps not what is called a great beauty, but she was
undeniably handsome, and she possessed that quality which often goes with
quick perceptions and great activity, and which is commonly defined by the
expression "striking." Short, rather than tall, she was yet so
proportioned between strength and fineness as to be very graceful, and her
head sat proudly on her shoulders--too proudly sometimes, for she could
command and she could be angry. Her wide brown eyes were bright and