"Never mind the short sleeves or the dressiness either--the chief thing is, not to annoy him with an ugly colour he cannot endure." I yielded against my own wish and judgment; partly to gratify her, and still more to lose no time. I gained nothing by the ready compliance. Miss O'Reilly dressed me as she had never dressed me before; she suggested or rejected improvements with unusual and irritating fastidiousness. Now a snow-white habit-shirt "would look so nice, or if my hair were braided, instead of being in plain bands, it would become me so much better." I could not help crying. "Oh, Kate, if you would only let me go! What will Cornelius care about all this?" "But I care," replied Miss O'Reilly. "I thought Cornelius would find you so much improved; but all he noticed was that you had grown." "Because that is all!" I said, laughing. "It is not. But last night you were pale and wild-looking; besides, you had that ugly grey thing on; but now, Midge, let me tell you there is a difference." She was holding me out at arm's length, with a satisfied look and smile. "There!" she said, dropping my hand, and releasing me, "you may go now." I waited for no second bidding. I ran down the stairs, then up the gravel path that led to the pine-trees. The scent of the cigar had not deceived me: he stood leaning against the trunk of the farthest pine, looking at the fresh sparkling sea that spread beneath, and went far away to meet a white line of horizon arched over by a sky of brightest blue. He turned round as I reached him all out of breath, and welcomed me with a smile. I stood by him, looking at him with the delighted eyes with which we gaze at those we love. He laid his hand on my shoulder, and looked at me too, silently at first, then all at once he said-- "God bless your pleasant face!" and stooping, kissed my brow. My heart beat a little; I could not help being glad. There was nothing in me beyond what there is in every girl from fifteen to twenty; but then this is the golden age of woman, when the youthful grace of the outlines makes the gazer forget their irregularity, and seeing the cheek so fresh and clear, he asks not whether it be dark or fair--when he is charmed by the sense of a being who has not dwelt on earth too long, and gives pleasant welcome to this late arrived guest.