What's Mine's Mine — Volume 1 by George MacDonald
page 6 of 197 (03%)
page 6 of 197 (03%)
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weary old back! From all such, good Lord deliver us!--except it be
for our discipline or their awaking. Near her at the breakfast table sits one of aspect so different, that you could ill believe they belonged to the same family. She is younger and taller--tall indeed, but not ungraceful, though by no means beautiful. She has all the features that belong to a face--among them not a good one. Stay! I am wrong: there were in truth, dominant over the rest, TWO good features--her two eyes, dark as eyes well could be without being all pupil, large, and rather long like her sister's until she looked at you, and then they opened wide. They did not flash or glow, but were full of the light that tries to see--questioning eyes. They were simple eyes--I will not say without arriere pensee, for there was no end of thinking faculty, if not yet thought, behind them,--but honest eyes that looked at you from the root of eyes, with neither attack nor defence in them. If she was not so graceful as her sister, she was hardly more than a girl, and had a remnant of that curiously lovely mingling of grace and clumsiness which we see in long-legged growing girls. I will give her the advantage of not being further described, except so far as this--that her hair was long and black, that her complexion was dark, with something of a freckly unevenness, and that her hands were larger and yet better than her sister's. There is one truth about a plain face, that may not have occurred to many: its ugliness accompanies a condition of larger undevelopment, for all ugliness that is not evil, is undevelopment; and so implies the larger material and possibility of development. The idea of no countenance is yet carried out, and this kind will take more developing for the completion of its idea, and may result in a |
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