The only person in the court-room, aside from the prisoner himself, who had not changed for the better over night, was Miss Alexandra Hildebrand. She could not have changed for the better if she had tried. When she took her seat beside her grandfather, she was attired as on the day before. Her cool, appraising eyes swept the jury box. More than one occupant of that despised pen felt conscious of his sartorial rehabilitation. A faint smile appeared at the corners of her adorable mouth. Even Sampson, the proud and elegant Sampson, wondered what there was for her to smile at. Being utterly disinterested in the composition of the jury of which he was an integral part, Sampson paid not the slightest attention to the process of rounding out the even dozen. While counsel struggled over the selection of talesmen to fill the two vacant places, he devoted himself to the study of Miss Hildebrand. This study was necessarily of a surreptitious character, and was interrupted from time to time by the divergence of the young lady's attention from the men who were being examined to those already accepted. At such times, Sampson shifted his gaze quickly. In two instances he was not quite swift enough, and she caught him at it. He was very much annoyed with himself. Of course, she would put him in a class with the other members of the jury, and that was a distinction not to be coveted. They were very honest, reliable fellows, no doubt, but Heaven knows they were not well-bred. No well-bred man would stare at Miss Hildebrand as No. 4 was staring, and certainly No. 7 was the most unmannerly person he bad ever seen. The fellow sat with his mouth open half the time, his lips hanging limp in a fixed fatuous smile, bis gaze never wavering. Sampson took the trouble to dissect No. 7's visage--in some exasperation, it may be said. He found that he had a receding chin and prominent upper teeth. Just the sort of a fellow, thought Sampson, who was sure to consider himself attractive to women. Miss Hildebrand was twenty-four or -five, he concluded. She was neither tall nor short, nor was she what one would describe as fashionably emaciated. Indeed, she was singularly without angles of any description. Her hair was brown and naturally wavy--at least, so said Sampson, poor simpleton--and it grew about her neck and temples in a most alluring manner. Her eyes were clear and dark and amazingly intelligent. Sampson repented at once of the word intelligent, but he couldn't think of a satisfactory synonym. Intelligent, he reflected, is a word applied only to the optics of dumb brutes--such as dogs, foxes, raccoons and the like--and to homely young women with brains. Understanding--that was the word he meant to use--she had understanding eyes, and they were shaded by very long and beautiful lashes. Her chin was firm and delicate, her mouth--well, it was a mouth that would bear watching, it had so many imperilling charms.