Miss Agnes was well aware that the last two years had not been lost with Elinor, although passed in quiet every-day life. She knew, from close observation, that the character of her adopted child had been gradually approaching nearer to all she wished it to be. As the two young girls sat chatting together, Miss Wyllys could not but mark the striking difference in their appearance; but she also felt that if Jane's loveliness were a charm, even to her, knowing Elinor thoroughly, she loved her far more deeply for the want of beauty. But, of course, the world would have decided differently. The morning after Jane's arrival at Wyllys-Roof, the young people were engaged in one of the gay conversations we have alluded to, when Mr. Wyllys called off Hazlehurst's attention. "Harry, what was that clumsy contrivance about the French horses, you were describing to Van Horne, last night? I wanted to ask you, at the time, but you began to talk with Miss Patsey. You said something about a wooden collar, I think." Harry changed his seat, for one nearer Mr. Wyllys, and began a long explanation of the harness used by the French teamsters. "I have several engravings in my trunks, that will show you my meaning, sir, better than words can do." "I should like to see them. But, are these wooden wings to the collars, as you describe them, used throughout France, or only in Normandy, and the neighbourhood of Paris?" "We saw them wherever we went. All the carters and farmers seem to use them. They have, besides, a great deal of clumsy, useless ornament, and they contrive to want twice as much tackle as we do." The gentlemen continued to discuss the subject of horses and harness, Harry relating, for Mr. Wyllys's amusement, many observations he had made, on these matters, in the different countries where he had been. Jane had brought down, from her room, an arm-full of pretty things, evidently Parisian. She had just given Elinor a very pretty bag, which Miss Agnes was called upon to admire. "My dear Aunt," cried Elinor, "do look at this; Jane, I think we must call it a sac--'bag' sounds too heavy. Look at the material--the finest cachemere. And then the colour, so rich and so delicate at the same time." "Yes; it is a very pretty shade of ponceau," said Jane. {"ponceau" = poppy red (French)} "And then the shape! so Parisian! And the ornaments--" "It is very pretty," said Miss Wyllys, after due examination. "That is the way with everything that comes from Paris," said Elinor; "it is always so complete; not one part good and others clumsy--or good in quality, but ugly in form and colour. The French seem to have an instinct about these things; they throw a grace about everything." "Yes; they have a perfect taste," said Jane.