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Malbone: an Oldport Romance by Thomas Wentworth Higginson
page 19 of 186 (10%)
though she was barely twenty, they had seemed to appertain to
each other for a time so long that the memory of man or maiden
aunt ran not to the contrary. She always declared, indeed, that
they were born married, and that their wedding-day would seem
like a silver wedding. Harry was quiet, unobtrusive, and manly.
He might seem commonplace at first beside the brilliant Kate
and his more gifted sister; but thorough manhood is never
commonplace, and he was a person to whom one could anchor. His
strong, steadfast physique was the type of his whole nature;
when he came into the room, you felt as if a good many people
had been added to the company. He made steady progress in his
profession of the law, through sheer worth; he never dazzled,
but he led. His type was pure Saxon, with short, curling hair,
blue eyes, and thin, fair skin, to which the color readily
mounted. Up to a certain point he was imperturbably patient
and amiable, but, when overtaxed, was fiery and impetuous for a
single instant, and no more. It seemed as if a sudden flash of
anger went over him, like the flash that glides along the
glutinous stem of the fraxinella, when you touch it with a
candle; the next moment it had utterly vanished, and was
forgotten as if it had never been.

Kate's love for her lover was one of those healthy and assured
ties that often outlast the ardors of more passionate natures.
For other temperaments it might have been inadequate; but
theirs matched perfectly, and it was all sufficient for them.
If there was within Kate's range a more heroic and ardent
emotion than that inspired by Harry, it was put forth toward
Hope. This was her idolatry; she always said that it was
fortunate Hope was Hal's sister, or she should have felt it her
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