"Halloa, you man thing! Look upon me, and thank your stars you are not a woman. I've _got_ to balance this tent upon my head, and nothing short of clamps will do it. And there's one hairpin, a fiendish anarchist of a hairpin, simply stacking into my scalp! ... Which would you rather,--keep the car waiting while I take it down and do it again, or have me scratching at my head all the afternoon, at the most compromising moments? Put your fingers in, Katrine! Prod about! Can you feel it? Not that one, no! For the land's sake don't scatter my curls on the floor. That's him! That's him! Good girl! ... What a mussiful relief... Now for the skewers... Deadly, ain't they? But I have screws for the ends, so you can be aisey... The question of the hour is, Martin--_do_ you love me better in a veil, or without?" She faced him, holding before her face lengths of filmy white, no disfiguring scrolls, no shadows, such as the fashion of the day forces on an unoffending public, but a gossamer tulle, invisible at a few yards' distance, yet lending a becoming softness to the features. Martin, however, gallantly refused to see the improvement, and gave the verdict "Without!" in unhesitating accents, whereupon Grizel beamed upon him, and deliberately proceeded to swathe the folds round the wide brim of the hat. "Sweet pusson! But you wouldn't, after a long drive, when the ends were flying! No woman can look distinguished with tousley hair. I'm ready, my loved ones! If you've any remarks to make, make 'em now, or else for ever hold your peace. As for Katrine--she's quite unnecessarily good-looking--no objections to make there. My hobject is--if you can understand,--to appear as if I were `Somebody,' and have a train of admirers following wherever I go!--If you didn't know any better, do you think you could mistake me for `Some one in Particular,' and hang around to stare?" The brother and sister smiled indulgently. "Isn't Grizel Dundas Somebody?" Martin enquired. "She's a goose anyway!" corrected Katrine, but she said it with a laugh, and in a voice which held no trace of the ordinary snap. Martin's eyes turned upon her quickly; he also seemed to be infected with an unusual gentleness and amenity of manner.