The voice ceased; and in another minute a door,
so skilfully constructed as when closed to be invisible in the solid
wall, opened noiselessly; and a female figure stood before him.
CHAPTER II.
"Farewell! though in that sound be years
Of blighted hopes and fruitless tears--
Though the soul vibrate to its knell
Of joys departed--yet farewell."
MRS. HEMANS.
To attempt description of either face or form would be useless. The
exquisite proportions of the rounded figure, the very perfection of
each feature, the delicate clearness of the complexion--brunette when
brought in close contact with the Saxon, blonde when compared with the
Spaniard--all attractions in themselves, were literally forgotten, or
at least unheeded, beneath the spell which dwelt in the _expression_
of her countenance. Truth, purity, holiness, something scarcely of
this nether world, yet blended indescribably with all a woman's
nature, had rested there, attracting the most unobservant, and
riveting all whose own hearts contained a spark of the same lofty
attributes. Her dress, too, was peculiar--a full loose petticoat of
dark blue silk, reaching only to the ankle, and so displaying the
beautifully-shaped foot; a jacket of pale yellow, the texture seeming
of the finest woven wool, reaching to the throat; with sleeves tight
on the shoulders, but falling in wide folds as low as the wrist, and
so with every movement displaying the round soft arm beneath.
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