She was simply the American pretty girl, whom he had
seen a thousand times. It was a numerous sisterhood, pervaded by a
strong family likeness. This young lady had charming eyes (of the color
of Gordon's cravats), which looked everywhere at once and yet found time
to linger in some places, where Longueville's own eyes frequently
met them. She had soft brown hair, with a silky-golden thread in it,
beautifully arranged and crowned by a smart little hat that savoured
of Paris. She had also a slender little figure, neatly rounded, and
delicate, narrow hands, prettily gloved. She moved about a great deal
in her place, twisted her little flexible body and tossed her head,
fingered her hair and examined the ornaments of her dress. She had
a great deal of conversation, Longueville speedily learned, and she
expressed herself with extreme frankness and decision. He asked her,
to begin with, if she had been long at Baden, but the impetus of
this question was all she required. Turning her charming, conscious,
coquettish little face upon him, she instantly began to chatter.
"I have been here about four weeks. I don't know whether you call that
long. It does n't seem long to me; I have had such a lovely time.
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