It was no longer a young lady that he saw--it was a young priest. The broad hat came down low upon the head, and beneath it there was a face full of sweet dignity and gentle grace--a face serene, and noble, and pure. Such a face Raffaelle loved to reproduce while portraying the Angel of the Visitation, where youth, and radiant beauty, and unsullied purity, and divinest grace all appear combined in one celestial visage. Brooke looked for some time with the an intent gaze, and in utter silence. "How do you think I look?" asked Miss Talbot. "Look?" repeated Brooke. He hesitated as if at a loss, and then went on in a way that was peculiarly his own. "Look? Oh, first-rate--very well--very well indeed. In fact, I had no idea that you could transform yourself so completely. I believe I was on the point of saying something about a vision of angels, but I'll be commonplace. All I can say is, that if I were to meet such a priest in real life, I'd down on my knees at once, make a confession, and--No, I wouldn't; I'd try to become a priest myself, so as to be always somewhere near him. And if he were a monk, I'd join the same monastery; and if he were a missionary, I'd go with him to the uttermost ends of the earth; if the cannibals ate him up, I'd make them eat me too; and, in any event, I should feel that in such company I should be nearer heaven than anywhere else. For, you see, you've always lived in a serene atmosphere, where you have known nothing of the evil of the world, and so your face has on it the stamp of Heaven itself, which it first received, and which has never been effaced. So, you see, you're just the one to go about as a priest. Oh, it's a great advantage to be as you are, and to have that angelic face! Like the old man in the song: "'Oh, he never got drunk and he never swore, And he never did violate the lor; And so we buried him underground, And the funeral-bell did merrily sound Ding! Dong! Dell!'" Thus far Brooke had rattled on in a strange, dry fashion; but suddenly he stopped, and then exclaimed, "Good Heavens!" "What's the matter?" asked Miss Talbot, who had seemed much amused at all this nonsense. "Why, what have you done with your hair?" Miss Talbot raised her hat from her head, and looked at him. Again he looked at her in silence. Yes, it was all gone! That glorious hair, which awhile ago had been folded in great masses round her head, was there no longer. She had cut it off! It was short now, like the hair of a young man, and hung loose in wavy curls over her forehead. Yet so far from her appearance being marred or disfigured by such a mutilation, the result was actually more becoming to her as she stood there in her new costume. Few could have made such a sacrifice without serious injury to their appearance; but in this case there was merely a change from one character to another, and all the beauty and all the subtle fascination still remained. "I couldn't have believed it," said Brooke, at length.