Ah, what a change even a black silk dress makes in one's appearance! He admired me--I saw he did, in jacket and pantiloons--what will be do, then, in this?
Will he fall in love with me, I wonder ?" One parting peep in the glass, and she opened the door and stepped out before Sir Everard Kingsland, a dazzling vision of beauty.
He stood and gazed.

Could he believe his eyes?
Was this superb-looking woman with the flowing curls, the dark, bright beauty and imperial mien, the lad in velveteen who had shot the poacher last night?
Why, Cleopatra might have looked like that, in the height of her regal splendor, or Queen Semiramis, in the glorious days that were gone.
"This is indeed a transformation," he said, coming forward.

"Your disguise was perfect.

I should never have known you for the youth I parted from ten minutes ago." "I can never thank you sufficiently, Sir Everard.

Ah, if you knew how I abhorred myself in that hateful disguise! Nothing earthly will ever induce me to put it on again." "I trust not," he said, gravely; "let us hope it may never be necessary.