and low and sweet, and full at all times of harmonious words; but when
she laughed it was like soft winds playing among countless silver bells.
There was something in her touch which to men was almost divine. Of this
she was all unconscious, but was as chary with her fingers as though it
seemed that she could ill spare her divinity.

In height she was a little above the common, but it was by the grace of
her movements that the world was compelled to observe her figure. There
are women whose grace is so remarkable as to demand the attention of
all. But then it is known of them, and momentarily seen, that their
grace is peculiar. They have studied their graces, and the result is
there only too evident. But Florence seemed to have studied nothing. The
beholder felt that she must have been as graceful when playing with her
doll in the nursery. And it was the same with her beauty. There was no
peculiarity of chiselled features. Had you taken her face and measured
it by certain rules, you would have found that her mouth was too large
and her nose irregular. Of her teeth she showed but little, and in her
complexion there was none of that pellucid clearness in which men
ordinarily delight. But her eyes were more than ordinarily bright, and
when she laughed there seemed to stream from them some heavenly delight.
When she did laugh it was as though some spring had been opened from
which ran for the time a stream of sweetest intimacy. For the time you
would then fancy that you had been let into the inner life of this girl,
and would be proud of yourself that so much should have been granted
you. You would feel that there was something also in yourself in that
this should have been permitted. Her hair and eyebrows were dark brown,
of the hue most common to men and women, and had in them nothing that
was peculiar; but her hair was soft and smooth and ever well dressed,
and never redolent of peculiar odors. It was simply Florence Mountjoy's
hair, and that made it perfect in the eyes of her male friends