"Cousin Jimmy was saying only yesterday that if Gabriella keeps it up, she'll be a better looking old lady than Jane." "Well, I think her a very pretty young one," replied Mrs.Peyton.

"She hasn't such small features as Jane has, but there is more in her face.
Now, I'm willing to wager that George thinks her a beauty." Gabriella laughed happily.

"He hasn't the faintest idea what I look like, but he declares he won't be a bit disappointed if he finds out some day that I am ugly." The glow of youth, of hope, of love, gave to her expressive face an almost unearthly brightness.

She seemed to draw to her all that was vital and alive in the dim old house, so filled with memories, and in the October pageantry of the garden.

It was the day of her miracle, and against the splendour of the scarlet sage, she shone with an unforgettable radiance.
When, a little later, Mrs.Carr, in Cousin Jimmy's buggy, with her bunch of chrysanthemums held rigidly in her lap, drove off at an amble to Hollywood, and Gabriella, turning to wave her hand, had vanished behind the corner of the gray wall, Mrs.Peyton said gently: "She looked very happy, dear boy.