He was clearly taken aback, and he showed it plainly. Not one feature of the girl’s proud, beautiful face moved, but there was a subtle gleam in the bright, dark eyes which made the handsome stranger feel uncomfortable. He knew that she had recognized him at the first glance, and was secretly laughing at that memory--a fact which he resented. She took but one glance at him, but in that one, instantaneous glance she had read not only the face, but the heart and soul, of the man sitting opposite her, and her first impression of dislike of him was strengthened. He was quick to see that this little Southern beauty did not go in raptures over him, as almost every other girl whom he had ever met had seemed to do; in fact, he felt that she disliked him, and he was sure that it was on account of the episode with the horse. “I will change all that,” he promised himself confidently. He would not notice that the girl acknowledged the introduction curtly, if not brusquely; a fact which quite horrified good Mrs. Bryson, who remembered full well her words: “If I like the paragon who is coming I will be as amiable as I can to him; if I dislike him, no power on earth can compel me to pretend that I do. I will be as civil as I can to him, do not expect any more from me, Mrs. Bryson. I have heard all that you have to say about this strange young man’s taking a fancy to me--which is the peg upon which riches in the future or beggary are hung--but I do not care a fillip of my finger for all that. I would never marry him unless I liked him, though a score of fortunes hung in the balance. If I ever marry, I want a lover like the heroes I have read of--a----” Mrs. Bryson held up her hands in horror, exclaiming: “Again, in after years, I behold the fruits of my folly. I allowed you to read what you would in master’s library, forgetting there were sentimental books there; and no young girl should read that kind. They have filled your foolish little head with all sorts of wild notions.” “I shall know when I meet my hero, thanks to them,” declared Jess, with a toss of the curls and a defiant expression of her dark eyes, which had a habit of speaking volumes from their wonderful dark depth. And looking at her, Mrs. Bryson knew from her indifferent manner that handsome Mr. Dinsmore had not made a favorable impression upon the girl--he was not her ideal--not her hero, evidently. Mr. Dinsmore noticed that she made no attempt to entertain him or to be anything more than civilly indifferent. He was annoyed, but he would not notice it. The elegantly appointed table, the excellent dinner, and the fine old wines made an impression upon him. He set himself to work with a will which was new to him to overcome the girl’s prejudice. He was all animation, vivacity and high spirits, literally charming the old housekeeper with his flow of wit and collection of anecdotes.