He became careful in his attire, bought splendid new garments.

His lean, bold jaw was almost daily smoothed by the razor of Don Paley, and Winona discovered a flask of perfume on his bureau in the little house.

The label was Heart of Flowers.

It was perhaps a more florid essence than Winona would have chosen, having a downright vigour of assertion that left one in no doubt of its presence; but it was infinitely superior to the scent of machine oil or printer's ink which had far too often betrayed the boy's vicinity.
Now, too, he wore his young years with a new seriousness; was more restrained of speech, with intervals of apparently lofty meditation.
Winona rejoiced at these evidences of an awakening soul.

The boy might after all some day become one of the better sort.