"Oh, miss, what beautiful hair? It's just like threads of gold. And it curls in such a lovely fashion! And such dark lashes and eyebrows sets you off." Jane was such a fervent note of admiration that Daffodil blushed. She was very pretty in her frock that ended above the ankles, and her fine white linen home-knit stockings were clocked. True her shoes were rather clumsy, but her shoulders made amends for any shortcomings. Her skin was very fair; sometimes it burned a little, but it never tanned. "Oh, miss, if you had a ribbon to tie your curls up high! All the young ladies wear it so." "I'm not _quite_ a young lady," archly. M. de Ronville came out of the library to meet her. The little flush and the shy way of raising her eyes was enchanting. She seemed a part of the handsome surroundings, really more attractive than in the plainness of her own home. "You are a most excellent traveller," he began. "And I give you a warm and heartfelt welcome to my house. You should have been my granddaughter. What now?" seeing a grave look settled in her face. "I was thinking. I wish I might call you uncle. It's queer but I never had an uncle with all the other relations. They seem to run in one line," and she laughed. "Oh, if you will. I've wished there was some way of bringing us nearer together. Yes, you shall be my niece. You won't forget?" "Oh, no; I am so glad." She seemed to come a little closer, and he placed his arm around her. Oh why did he never know before how sweet love could be! Then he kisses down amid the golden hair. Even her cheek is sacred to him and her lips must be kept for some lover. There was a little musical string of bells that summoned them to supper. A young man of three- or four-and-twenty stood just inside the door. "For convenience sake Miss Carrick will be announced as my niece as she is my ward. Allow me to present Mr. Bartram." Daffodil flushed and bowed. M. de Ronville placed her chair for her. The table was round and very beautifully appointed. She and the young man were opposite. He was rather tall, well looking without being especially handsome. Mrs. Jarvis poured the tea. The two men talked a little business. "I shall lay the matter before the Wetherills to-morrow," de Ronville said. "I was surprised at the promise of the place and it has a most excellent location. At present it is rather wild, but after seething and settling down the real town comes to the surface. It will not be a bad investment if one can wait. And the Wetherills are not likely to lack descendants. "I am glad you were not disappointed," returned the young man. "We know so little about Pittsburg," said Mrs. Jarvis, "except the great defeat of Braddock in the old war. Your people are French, I believe," turning to Daffodil. "Yes, on the one side. The town seems to be made up of all nations, but they agree pretty well. And they have many queer ways and fashions."