it shyly into the
sunshine, and found that it corroborated the reflection of the spring.
That night she worked until late at the calico Doctor Ruysdael had sent
her, and went to bed happy. The next day brought her Hoskins again with
a feeble excuse of inquiring if she had a letter for the doctor, and
she was surprised to find that he was reinforced by a stranger from
Hoskins's farm, who was equally awkward and vaguely admiring. But the
appearance of the TWO men produced a singular phase in her impressions
and experience. She was no longer indignant at Hoskins, but she found
relief in accepting the compliments of the stranger in preference,
and felt a delight in Hoskins's discomfiture. Waya, promoted to
the burlesque of a chaperone, grinned with infinite delight and
understanding.

When at last the day came for the doctor's arrival, he was duly met by
Hoskins, and as duly informed by that impressible subordinate of the
great change in Liberty's appearance. But the doctor was far from being
equally impressed with his factor's story, and indeed showed much more
interest in the appearance of the stock which they met along the road.
Once the doctor got out of the wagon to inspect a cow, and particularly
the coat of a rough draught horse that had been turned out and put under
Liberty's care. "His skin is like velvet," said the doctor. "The girl
evidently understands stock, and knows how to keep them in condition."

"I reckon she's beginning to understand herself, too," said Hoskins.
"Golly! wait till ye see HER."

The doctor DID see her, but with what feelings he did not as frankly
express. She was not at the cabin when they arrived, but presently
appeared from the direction of the spring where, for reasons of her
own, she had evidently made her toilet. Doctor Ruysdael was astounded;
Hoskins's praise was not exaggerated; and there was an added charm
that Hoskins was not prepared for. She had put on a gown of her own
making,--the secret toil of many a long night,--amateurishly fashioned
from some cheap yellow calico the doctor had sent her, yet fitting her
wonderfully, and showing every curve of her graceful figure. Unaccented
by a corset,--an article she had never known,--even the lines of the
stiff, unyielding calico had a fashion that was nymph-like and suited
her unfettered limbs. Doctor Ruysdael was profoundly moved. Though a
philosopher, he was practical. He found himself suddenly confronted not
only by a beautiful g