"I see no reverse side," replied the stranger. "I see but a fair
girl, bursting into noble womanhood."

"And nothing else? You read no trace of greed, of vanity, of
sordidness, of--" An angry laugh escaped her lips. "And you are a
reader of faces!"

"A reader of faces." The stranger smiled. "Do you know what is
written upon yours at this very moment? A love of truth that is
almost fierce, scorn of lies, scorn of hypocrisy, the desire for all
things pure, contempt of all things that are contemptible--especially
of such things as are contemptible in woman. Tell me, do I not read
aright?"

I wonder, thought the girl, is that why those two others both hurried
from the room? Does everyone feel ashamed of the littleness that is
in them when looked at by those clear, believing eyes of yours?

The idea occurred to her: "Papa seemed to have a good deal to say to
you during dinner. Tell me, what were you talking about?"

"The military looking gentleman upon my left? We talked about your
mother principally."

"I am sorry," returned the girl, wishful now she had not asked the
question. "I was hoping he might have chosen another topic for the
first evening!"

"He did try one or two," admitted the stranger; "but I have been about