This disconcerted the girl, and increased her
embarrassment until we could not tell which was the prettiest--the
garments, the girl or the confusion; but this I know, the whole
picture was as sweet and beautiful as the eyes of man could behold.
Fine feathers will not make fine birds, and Mary's masculine attire
could no more make her look like a man than harness can disguise the
graces of a gazelle. Nothing could conceal her intense, exquisite
womanhood. With our looks of astonishment and admiration Mary's
blushes deepened.
"What is the matter? Is anything wrong?" she asked.
[Illustration]
"Nothing is wrong," answered Brandon, smiling in spite of himself;
"nothing on earth is wrong with you, you may be sure. You are
perfect--that is, for a woman; and one who thinks there is anything
wrong about a perfect woman is hard to please. But if you flatter
yourself that you, in any way, resemble a man, or that your dress in
the faintest degree conceals your sex, you are mistaken. It makes it
only more apparent.
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