She half sat, half knelt, her elbow on her knee, her soft cheek resting upon her firm, delicate hand.

Her beauty was as fresh and sweet as on the day we first saw her.

More, something deep and rich had entered into it.

Her eyes had got that fine steadfastness which only deep tenderness and pride can give a woman: she had lived.

She was smiling now, yet she was not merry; her brightness was the sunshine of a nature touched with an Arcadian simplicity.