the town, in front of which political meetings had
been held, and political speeches made, and political
hard cider drunk, in the days of "Tippecanoe
and Tyler too."

The street down which Warwick had come
intersected Front Street at a sharp angle in front of
the old hotel, forming a sort of flatiron block at
the junction, known as Liberty Point,--perhaps
because slave auctions were sometimes held there in
the good old days. Just before Warwick reached
Liberty Point, a young woman came down Front
Street from the direction of the market-house.
When their paths converged, Warwick kept on
down Front Street behind her, it having been
already his intention to walk in this direction.

Warwick's first glance had revealed the fact
that the young woman was strikingly handsome,
with a stately beauty seldom encountered. As he
walked along behind her at a measured distance,
he could not help noting the details that made
up this pleasing impression, for his mind was
singularly alive to beauty, in whatever embodiment.
The girl's figure, he perceived, was admirably
proportioned; she was evidently at the period
when the angles of childhood were rounding into
the promising curves of adolescence. Her abundant
hair, of a dark and glossy brown, was neatly
plaited and coiled above an ivory column that rose