mild riddles are more amusing than mere commonplaces) it gave way to
curiosity about her friend. His eyes wandered; her volubility shook a
sort of sweetness out of the friend's silence.

The stranger was perhaps not obviously a beauty nor obviously an
American, but essentially both for the really seeing eye. She was slight
and fair and, though naturally pale, was delicately flushed just now, as
by the effect of late agitation. What chiefly struck Longmore in her
face was the union of a pair of beautifully gentle, almost languid grey
eyes with a mouth that was all expression and intention. Her forehead
was a trifle more expansive than belongs to classic types, and her thick
brown hair dressed out of the fashion, just then even more ugly than
usual. Her throat and bust were slender, but all the more in harmony
with certain rapid charming movements of the head, which she had a way
of throwing back every now and then with an air of attention and a
sidelong glance from her dove-like eyes. She seemed at once alert and
indifferent, contemplative and restless, and Longmore very soon
discovered that if she was not a brilliant beauty she was at least a
most attaching one. This very impression made him magnanimous. He was
certain he had interrupted a confidential conversation, and judged it
discreet to withdraw, having first learned from Maggie's mamma--Mrs.
Draper--that she was to take the six o'clock train back to Paris. He
promised to meet her at the station.

He kept his appointment, and Mrs. Draper arrived betimes, accompanied by
her friend. The latter, however, made her farewells at the door and
drove away again, giving Longmore time only to raise his hat. "Who is
she?" he asked with visible ardour as he brought the traveller her
tickets.