Doctor Ruysdael was astounded;
Hoskins's praise was not exaggerated; and there was an added charm
that Hoskins was not prepared for. She had put on a gown of her own
making,--the secret toil of many a long night,--amateurishly fashioned
from some cheap yellow calico the doctor had sent her, yet fitting her
wonderfully, and showing every curve of her graceful figure. Unaccented
by a corset,--an article she had never known,--even the lines of the
stiff, unyielding calico had a fashion that was nymph-like and suited
her unfettered limbs. Doctor Ruysdael was profoundly moved. Though a
philosopher, he was practical. He found himself suddenly confronted not
only by a beautiful girl, but a problem! It was impossible to keep
the existence of this woodland nymph from the knowledge of his
distant neighbors; it was equally impossible for him to assume the
responsibility of keeping a goddess like this in her present position.
He had noticed her previous improvement, but had never dreamed that pure
and wholesome living could in two months work such a miracle.
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