suffered
the little girl to draw her into the garden. Two grooms, each mounted on
a horse of the pure Arabian breed, and each leading another, swathed and
bandaged, were riding slowly up the road; and Caroline was so attracted
by the novel appearance of the animals in a place so deserted that she
followed the children towards them, to learn who could possibly be their
enviable owner. Evelyn, forgotten for the moment, remained alone. She
was pleased at being so, and once more turned to the picture which had
so attracted her before. The mild eyes fixed on her, with an expression
that recalled to her mind her own mother.
"And," thought she, as she gazed, "this fair creature did not live to
know the fame of her son, to rejoice in his success, or to soothe his
grief. And he, that son, a disappointed and solitary exile in distant
lands, while strangers stand within his deserted hall!"
The images she had conjured up moved and absorbed her; and she continued
to stand before the picture, gazing upward with moistened eyes. It was
a beautiful vision as she thus stood, with her delicate bloom, her
luxuriant hair (for the hat was not yet replaced), her elastic form,
so full of youth and health and hope,--the living form beside the faded
canvas of the dead, once youthful, tender, lovely as herself! Evelyn
turned away with a sigh; the sigh was re-echoed yet more deeply. She
started: the door that led to the study was opened, and in the aperture
was the figure of a man in the prime of life. His hair, still luxuriant
as in his earliest youth, though darkened by the suns of the East,
curled over a forehead of majestic expanse. The high and proud features,
that well became a stature above the ordinary standard; the pale but
bronzed complexion; the large eyes of deepest blue, shaded by dark brows
and lashes; and more than all, that expression at once of passion and
repose which characterizes the old Italian portraits, and seems to
denote the inscrutable power that experience imparts to intellect,
constituted an _ensemble_ which, if not faultlessly handsome, was
eminently striking, and formed at once to interest and command. It was
a face, once seen, never to be forgotten; it was a face that had long,
half unconsciously, haunted Evelyn's young dreams; it was a face she
had seen before, though, then younger and milder and fairer, it wore a
different aspect.
Evelyn stood rooted to the spot, feeling herself blush to her very
temples,--a
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