Another transient caller was old Dr.Nash, and he, looking at Eliza, recognised in a dull way something in her appearance which made him think her a finer woman than he had formerly supposed, and, pulling off his hat, he made her a stiff bow.
Eliza spoke only to Mr.Hutchins: "I shall be gone about four hours; I am going to the Rexfords to tea.

You'd better look into the dining-room once or twice when supper's on." "All right," said he, adding, when the clock had had time to tick once, "Miss White." And the reason he affixed her name to his promise was the same that had compelled Dr.Nash's bow--a sense of her importance growing upon him; but the hotel-keeper observed, what the old doctor did not, that the gown was silk.
"Fine woman that, sir," he remarked, when she was gone, to anyone who might wish to receive the statement.
"Well," said one of the men, "I should just think it." "She seems," said Dr.Nash, stiffly, "to be a good girl and a clever one." "She isn't _just_ now what I'd call a gurl," said the man who had answered first.

"She's young, I know; but now, if you see her walking about the dining-room, she's more like a _queen_ than a _gurl_." Without inquiring into the nature of this distinction Dr.Nash got into his buggy.

As he drove down the street under the arching elm trees he soon passed Eliza on her way to the Rexfords, and again he lifted his hat.

Eliza, with grave propriety, returned the salutation.
The big hawthorn tree at the beginning of Captain Rexford's fence was thickly bedecked with pale scarlet haws.