and foliage down the middle, and also on the neck and the wide sleeves.
On the couch at her side sat the father of the house, holding her hand
and talking in low tones to her; two of the young women sat at her feet
on cushions, engaged on embroidery work, while another stood behind her;
one of the young men was also there, and was just now showing her a
sketch, and apparently explaining something in it.

I had expected to find a sick, feeble lady, in a dimly-lighted chamber,
with perhaps one attendant at her side; now, coming so unexpectedly
before this proud-looking, beautiful woman, with so many about her, I
was completely abashed, and, feeling too confused to say anything, stood
silent and awkward in her presence.

"This is our stranger, Chastel," said the old man to her, at the same
time bestowing an encouraging look on me.

She turned from the sketch she had been studying, and raising herself
slightly from her half-recumbent attitude, fixed her dark eyes on me
with some interest.

"I do not see why you were so much impressed," she remarked after a
while. "There is nothing very strange in him after all."

I felt my face grow hot with shame and anger, for she seemed to look on
me and speak of me--not to me--as if I had been some strange, semi-human
creature, discovered in the woods, and brought in as a great curiosity.

"No; it was not his countenance, only his curious garments and his words
that astonished us," said the father in reply.