To the eyes of a man viewing it from behind, the nut-brown hair was a wonder and a mystery.Under the black beaver hat, surmounted by its tuft of black feathers, the long locks, braided andtwisted and coiled like the rushes of a basket, composed a rare, if somewhat barbaric, example ofingenious art. One could understand such weavings and coilings being wrought to last intact for ayear, or even a calendar month; but that they should be all demolished regularly at bedtime, after asingle day of permanence, seemed a reckless waste of successful fabrication.And she had done it all herself, poor thing. She had no maid, and it was almost the onlyaccomplishment she could boast of. Hence the unstinted pains.She was a young invalid lady-not so very much of an invalid-sitting in a wheeled chair, which hadbeen pulled up in the front part of a green enclosure, close to a bandstand, where a concert wasgoing on, during a warm June afternoon. It had place in one of the minor parks or private gardensthat are to be found in the suburbs of London, and was the effort of a local association to raisemoney for some charity. There are worlds within worlds in the great city, and though nobodyoutside the immediate district had ever heard of the charity, or the band, or the garden, theenclosure was filled with an interested audience sufficiently informed on all these.As the strains proceeded many of the listeners observed the chaired lady, whose back hair, by reasonof her prominent position, so challenged inspection. Her face was not easily discernible, but theaforesaid cunning tress-weavings, the white ear and poll, and the curve of a cheek which was neitherflaccid nor sallow, were signals that led to the expectation of good beauty in front. Such expectationsare not infrequently disappointed as soon as the disclosure comes; and in the present case, when thelady, by a turn of the head, at length revealed herself, she was not so handsome as the people behindher had supposed, and even hoped-they did not know why.For one thing (alas! the commonness of this complaint), she was less young than they had fanciedher to be. Yet attractive her face unquestionably was, and not at all sickly. The revelation of itsdetails came each time she turned to talk to a boy of twelve or thirteen who stood beside her, andthe shape of whose hat and jacket implied that he belonged to a well-known public school. Theimmediate bystanders could hear that he called her 'Mother.'When the end of the recital was reached, and the audience withdrew, many chose to find their wayout by passing at her elbow. Almost all turned their heads to take a full and near look at theinteresting woman, who remained stationary in the chair till the way should be clear enough for herto be wheeled out without obstruction. As if she expected their glances, and did not mind gratifyingtheir curiosity, she met the eyes of several of her observers by lifting her own, showing these to besoft, brown, and affectionate orbs, a little plaintive in their regard.