She's got
charm--there's no doubt of that. I believe even if she were plain she'd
be almost as attractive. Why, I've seen her when she was very nearly
plain sometimes, and she hasn't been a whit less fascinating than when
she's looking her prettiest. It's the infinite variety and all that, you
know. Her soul does it, I suppose."
"Yes, she must have charm," replied Mrs. Gay, ignoring what he had said
about "soul" because she felt a vague dislike to hearing a word applied
indiscriminately to others which had become, as it were, associated with
herself. "I can't analyze it, however, for she hasn't a single really
perfect feature except her eyes."
"But such eyes! In the sunlight they are nearer the colour of a
humming-birds wing than anything I know of."
"I suppose they are rather unusual, but, after all a fine pair of eyes
can't make exactly a--well, a lady, Jonathan."
"The deuce!" he ejaculated, and then added quickly, "What has she done
now, mother?"
One of Mrs. Gay's first principles of diplomacy was that an unpleasant
fact treated as non-existent, was deprived in a measure of its power
for evil.
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