clear cheek was
tinted yet with the colour which had risen into it a few minutes since.
The dark lashes of her eyes looking down as she read, the dusk yet
delicate line of her eyebrows, the almost sable gloss of her curls, made
her heightened complexion look fine as the bloom of a red wild flower by
contrast. There was natural grace in her attitude, and there was
artistic effect in the ample and shining folds of her silk dress--an
attire simply fashioned, but almost splendid from the shifting
brightness of its dye, warp and woof being of tints deep and changing as
the hue on a pheasant's neck. A glancing bracelet on her arm produced
the contrast of gold and ivory. There was something brilliant in the
whole picture. It is to be supposed that Moore thought so, as his eye
dwelt long on it, but he seldom permitted his feelings or his opinions
to exhibit themselves in his face. His temperament boasted a certain
amount of phlegm, and he preferred an undemonstrative, not ungentle, but
serious aspect to any other.

He could not, by looking straight before him, see Caroline, as she was
close at his side. It was necessary, therefore, to manoeuvre a little to
get her well within the range of his observation. He leaned back in his
chair, and looked down on her. In Miss Helstone neither he nor any one
else could discover brilliancy. Sitting in the shade, without flowers
or ornaments, her attire the modest muslin dress, colourless but for its
narrow stripe of pale azure, her complexion unflushed, unexcited, the
very brownness of her hair and eyes invisible by this faint light, she
was, compared with the heiress, as a graceful pencil sketch compared
with a vivid painting. Since Robert had seen her last a great change had
been wrought in her. Whether he perceived it might not be ascertained.
He said nothing to that effect.

"How is Hortense?" asked Caroline softly.

"Very well; but she complains of being unemployed. She misses you."

"Tell her that I miss her, and that I write and read a portion of French
every day."

"She will ask if you sent your love; she is always particular on that
point. You know she likes attention."

"My best love--my very best. And say to her that whenever she has time
to write me a little note I shall be glad to hear from her."

"What if I forget? I am not the surest messenger of compliments."

"No, don't forget, Robert. It is no compliment; it is in good earnest."

"And must, therefore, be deliver