IT NEVER DID RUN SMOOTH.
CHAPTER I.
TWO HEROES AND AS MANY HEROINES.
"Excuse me, sir, but these ladies cannot pass!"
"Beg pardon, I'm sure—of the ladies."
And the speaker removed his foot from the end of the gangway plank, upon which he had planted it, while turning his head to give some last direction to the servant he was dismissing, and bowed politely to the ladies, who hesitated to pass him. They were two; first, an exceedingly well preserved, aristocratic woman, who rewarded the interference of the first cavalier, and the movement of the last one, by an impatient smile and bow, fine and cold as winter sunshine. Behind her came a charming girl, American in the type of her beauty, that is to say lithesome and graceful of form, with dainty hands and feet, quick and nervous of temperament, high couraged and self-reliant, apt to observation and quick at learning, fond and loving, daring and innocent; the coloring of her finely moulded features was mezzobrum, with gray eyes, whose black lashes could shade them into sombre melancholy, or the sunshine light them with a glint like that of running water. Her name was Hildegarde, and she was the only child and heiress of Mrs. Waterston, the dignified lady who preceded her over the plank.
