She was even more impressive in manner than ever, and also a little pleasanter to behold.

For her angles were clothing themselves into curves, and she was learning, perhaps from the Little Playmate, to leave off bouncing into a room like a cow at the trot, and to walk in sedately instead.

By-and-by I knew she would come sailing down the street like a towered galleon from the isles of Ind.

For all that, she looked not ill--an academic study for Juno, one might say.

But to make love to--why, as Helene was wont to remark, _Feech!_ And the curious thing about Katrin Texel was that though her corporeal part might be a direct inheritance from her Burgomeister father and his substantial brewery, her spirit had been designed for an artful fairy of half her size, in order that it might go pirouetting into airy realms of the imagination.