and, smiling, she turned to me, challenging me with her clear, sunny eyes:

“Come, Euan, you shall do me reason, now that my curly pate is innocent of powder, no French red to tint my lips and hide my freckles, and but a linsey-woolsey gown instead of chintz and silk to cover me! So tell me honestly, does not the enchantment break that for a little while seemed to hold you near me?”

“Do you forget,” said I, “that I first saw my enchantress in rags and tattered shoon?”

“Oh!” she said, tossing her pretty head. “Extremes attract all men. But now in this sober and common guise of every day, I am neither Cinderella nor yet the Princess — merely a frowsy, rustic, freckled maid with a mouth somewhat