When she turned from the glass, there was an expression of triumph upon her face which plainly betrayed a consciousness of her own surpassing beauty.
She went down-stairs, opened the door of the room where Thrasher sat, and glided in as self-possessed and elegant as any city belle of three seasons, and a more dashingly beautiful woman you would not find in a day's journey.
He started forward to meet her, his face flushed and lighted up with excitement.
He caught Mrs. Mason's hand between both his own and faltered out an almost timid greeting, very unlike the usual boldness of his manner.
"Are you well?" he asked. "Have you been well and contented?"
"A fine question, truly!" she replied, putting aside his eagerness with a sort of unconcern very well assumed, and which evidently displeased and pained him.
"As if any one could be contented shut up in a bird-cage."
"Have you been anxious to go away?" he questioned, as if hoping to derive some comfort from her answer.
"I have not thought much about it; I find one thing which pleases me greatly."
"And that?"