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She was arrayed in a blue-dotted, white flannel dress, with a soft roll collar and cuffs, and the costume was completed by white stockings and shoes. Her corn-colored ringlets hung gaily about her face. Blue eyes, rosy lips, rosy cheeks completed the picture. Lester stared, almost inclined to say something, but restrained himself. Vesta shyly retreated.
She almost proposed that they should be taken along, but inexperience hindered her. Eugene was struck with all her charm at once. She seemed like one of those unattainable creatures who had swum into his ken a little earlier and disappeared. There was something of the girl with the corn-colored hair about her, only she had been more human, less like a dream.
But it was somewhat confusing to observe, also, that the beast, despite some faint signs of past dissipation, was amiable-looking in fact, a kind of blond Samson whose corn-colored, silken beard apparently had never yet known the touch of barber's razor or Delilah's shears.
She approached a mirror, regarded her expression with a pleased and pleasant languor, dabbed two spots of rouge on her lips and a grain of powder on her nose, and covered her bobbed corn-colored hair with a rose-littered sunbonnet. Then she kicked over the painting water, said, "Oh, damn!" but let it lay and left the room.
That sight grated harshly, and Wilford, knowing this was the uncle of whom Katy had often spoken, felt glad that he was not bound to her by any pledge. Very curiously he looked after the couple, witnessing the meeting between Katy and old Whitey, and guessing rightly that the corn-colored vehicle was the one sent to transport Katy home.
There was something startling and solemn in the words as they stood out in blue and gold and crimson and white on the little blackboard. Allison and Leslie looked and turned wonderingly toward the young leader. He had corn-colored hair, light, ineffective blue eyes, and a noticeably weak chin.
Elinor Worthington's smiling glance followed the girl far down the deck. For the creature was so deliciously young, everything about her; her slenderness; the joyful way she swung when she walked; even the cut of her clothes spelled youth. And she was undeniably pretty, with eyes like bits of blue sky and quantities of silky, corn-colored hair.
There occurred to Lilly a swift talent for the moment. "Certainly," she said, shaping her own voice into a petard against the little clang of surprise in the voice of her vis-a-vis. "I always travel alone. I'm a professional." "Really?" her glance running over the somewhat florid details of the corn-colored linen. "With that fine chest, I'll warrant you're a singer." "Right."
"Thank God that firebrand isn't a girl," I heard my Uncle, the General Robert, say to most lovely Mademoiselle Susan, in a corn-colored gown of fine line, who sat at his side. "I'm so grateful to you, General, that he is a boy," I heard her say in the deepest respect and regard for my Uncle, the General Robert.
"I should like to have a few moments’ private conference with her, if you’ve no objection, sir," replied Mr. Dunn. "A few moments private fiddlestick," answered Mr. Middleton. "What the devil—whose little boy are you? Ain’t you Miss Dunn’s little boy? You’d better scratch gravel for home, and if I catch you here again dickerin’ after Fanny, I’ll pull every corn-colored hair out of your head!"