flow a tide of passions
and powers that might have been tumultuous in a meaner woman, but over
which, in her, the clear and brilliant eyes and the sweet, proud mouth
presided in unbroken calm. These superb 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 charm 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. Her person
had the equipoise and symmetry of her mind. While it had its separate
points of beauty, each a source of distinct and peculiar pleasure,--as,
the outline of her temples, the white line that parted her nightblack
hair, the bend of her wrists, the moulding of her finger-tips,--yet
these details were lost in the overwhelming sweetness of her presence,
and the serene atmosphere that 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 toward
her parents than toward me; while her mother, gracious to her as to
all, yet rarely caressed her, and Kenmure, though habitually kind, was
inclined 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, though Laura was almost constantly there; and after the first
cordiality was past, I observed that their daily expeditions were
always arranged for only 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 almost 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 pl