On the church steps stood Lynn Gordon, intent upon watching and waiting for the coming of the girl whom he had come hoping to see. So intent was he that he was not aware of the glances cast upon himself by those passing into the building. Yet he was well worth looking at, for he was a handsome young fellow, and dressed, moreover, as no one had ever before been dressed in Oldfield. His pantaloons, made of dove-colored canton cloth, were tight beyond anything ever seen in that part of the country, and held to his high-heeled varnished boots by a strap under his arched instep. His long-waisted, short-skirted coat of dark blue was lined and trimmed with rich goffered silk. His waistcoat was of a buff color and _en pique_, for, strange--incredible, indeed--as it may seem, Paris at that time set the fashions for fine gentlemen as well as for fine ladies, and the London papers gravely recorded weekly what the Frenchmen were wearing. Lynn Gordon's hat, too, was of the latest French mode, just brought over for the Boston dandies on the eve of his leaving Harvard. Its brim was very wide and slightly curled, and its crown was high and widened perceptibly toward the top. His tie, a large, loose bow of black brocade, gave the final touch of elegance. There was nothing modish in poor little, country-bred, Doris's dress when this fine gentleman saw her coming behind all the rest, after he had almost given her up. The skirt of Miss Judy's book-muslin was much too narrow for the requirements even of Oldfield fashions, but Doris did not know it, and the young man was not thinking of it as he saw her first, far up the big road, descending its gradual slope beneath the flowering locust trees. The gentle breeze caught the ivory softness of her skirt, pressing it into enchanting curves around her slender limbs; a long, thin white scarf streamed back from her shoulders, and the white ribbons of her straw hat floated out behind her golden head. The thought which arose in Lynn's mind as he thus saw Doris approaching was not of any fleeting fashion, but of a living Winged Victory lovelier than any antique sculpture.