tints implied resources only,
not a struggle. With this torrent from the tropics in her veins, she was
the most equable person I ever saw; and had a supreme and delicate
good-sense, which, if not supplying the place of genius, at least
comprehended its work. Not intellectually gifted herself, perhaps, she
seemed the cause of gifts in others, and furnished the atmosphere in
which all showed their best. With the steady and thoughtful enthusiasm
of her Puritan ancestors, she combined that grace which is so rare among
their descendants,--a grace which fascinated the humblest, while it
would have been just the same in the society of kings. And her person
had the equipoise and symmetry of her mind. While abounding in separate
points of beauty, each a source of distinct and peculiar pleasure,--as
the outline of her temples, the white line that parted her night-black
hair, the bend of her wrists, the moulding of her finger-tips,--yet
these details were lost in the overwhelming gracefulness of her
presence, and the atmosphere of charm which she diffused over all human
life.

A few days passed rapidly by us. We walked and rode and boated and read.
Little Marian came and went, a living sunbeam, a self-sufficing thing.
It was soon obvious that she was far less demonstrative towards her
parents than towards me; while her mother, gracious to her as to all,
yet rarely caressed her, and Kenmure, though habitually kind, seemed
rather to ignore her existence, and could scarcely tolerate that she
should for one instant preoccupy his wife. For Laura he lived, and she
must live for him. He had a studio, which I rarely entered and Marian
never, while Laura was constantly there; and after the first cordiality
was past, I observed that their daily expeditions were always arranged
for two. The weather was beautiful, and they led the wildest outdoor
life, cruising all day or all night among the islands, regardless of
hours, and, as it sometimes seemed to me, of health. No matter: Kenmure
liked it, and what he liked she loved. When at home, they were chiefly
in the studio, he painting, modelling, poetizing perhaps, and she
inseparably united with him in all. It was very beautiful, this
unworldly and passionate love, and I could have borne to be omitted in
their daily plans, since little Marian was left to me, save that it
seemed so strange to omit her also. Besides, there grew to be something
a little oppressive in this peculiar atmosphere; it wa