o be sure how she looked at that moment, for he
knew her face well. It had fixed itself in the front of his memories
some time ago, and he had not succeeded in bringing any other image
there to drive it away. Perhaps he had not tried as hard as he
supposed.

It was not such a very striking face either, at first sight. The
features were not perfect, by any means, and they were certainly not
Greek. Anacreon would not have compared Margaret's complexion to roses
mixed with milk, but he might have thought of cream tinged with
peach-bloom, and it would have been called a beautiful skin anywhere.
Margaret had rather light brown eyes, but when she was interested in
anything the pupils widened so much as to make them look very dark.
Then the lids would stay quite motionless for a long time, and the
colour would fade a little from her whole face; but sometimes, just
then, she would bite her lower lip, and that spoiled what some people
would have called the intenseness of her expression. It is true that
her teeth were beyond criticism and her lips were fresh and creamy
red--but Mr. Lushington wished she would not do it. The muses are never
represented 'biting their lips'; and in his moments of enthusiasm he
liked to think that Margaret was his muse. She had thick brown hair
that waved naturally, but made no little curls and baby ringlets, such
as some young women have, or make. The line of her hair along her
forehead and temples, though curved, was rather severe. She had been
fair when a little girl, but had grown darker after she was fifteen.

When she thought of it, she rather liked her own face, for she was not
everlastingly trying to be some one else. It was a satisfactory face,
on the whole, she thought, perfectly natural and frank, and healthy. No
doubt it would have been nice to be as beautiful as a Madame de
Villeneuve, or a Comtesse de Castiglione, but as that was quite
impossible, it was easy to be satisfied with what she had in the way of
looks and not to envy the insolent radiance of the fair beauties, or
the tragic splendour of the dark ones. Besides, great beauty has
disadvantages; it attracts attention at the wrong moment, it makes
travelling troublesome, it is obtrusive and hinders a woman from doing
exactly what she pleases. It is celebrity, and therefore a target for
every photographing tourist and newspaper man.

And then, to lose it, as one must, is a kind of suffering which no male
can quite understand. Ev