was often forgiven; if towards _her,_ the servant was sent away on the
spot. His daughter was in his eyes the representative of her mother:
the mistress of his house, as well as his child. It was curious to see
the mixture of high-bred courtesy and fatherly love in his manner, as
he just gently touched her forehead with his lips, when he first saw
her in the morning.

In person, my father was of not more than middle height. He was very
slenderly and delicately made; his head small, and well set on his
shoulders--his forehead more broad than lofty--his complexion
singularly pale, except in moments of agitation, when I have already
noticed its tendency to flush all over in an instant. His eyes, large
and gray, had something commanding in their look; they gave a certain
unchanging firmness and dignity to his expression, not often met with.
They betrayed his birth and breeding, his old ancestral prejudices,
his chivalrous sense of honour, in every glance. It required, indeed,
all the masculine energy of look about the upper part of his face, to
redeem the lower part from an appearance of effeminacy, so delicately
was it moulded in its fine Norman outline. His smile was remarkable
for its sweetness--it was almost like a woman's smile. In speaking,
too, his lips often trembled as women's do. If he ever laughed, as a
young man, his laugh must have been very clear and musical; but since
I can recollect him, I never heard it. In his happiest moments, in the
gayest society, I have only seen him smile.

There were other characteristics of my father's disposition and
manner, which I might mention; but they will appear to greater
advantage, perhaps, hereafter, connected with circumstances which
especially called them forth.