"There goes more to a picture."
"Between the eyes and mouth," said Thorold, "there is sense,
and dignity, and delicacy, and refinement to a fastidious
point; and a world of strength of character in the little
delicate chin."
"Character — _that_ shows in the mouth," said Miss Cardigan
slowly.
"I told you so," said Thorold. "That is what I told you.
Truth, and love, and gentleness, all sit within those little
red lips; and a great strength of will, which you cannot help
thinking has borne something to try it. The brow is like one
of our snowy mountain tops with the sun shining on it."
"And the lady's figure is like a pine tree, isn't it? It
sounds gay as if you'd fallen in love with Nature, and so
personified and imaged her in human likeness. Is it real
humanity?"
Thorold laughed his gay laugh. "The pine-tree will do
excellently, aunt Catherine," he said. "No better embodiment
of stately grace could be found."
My ears tingled. "Aunt Catherine?" _Aunt!_ then Thorold must be
her relation, her nephew; then he was not come on business;
then he would stay to tea.
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