And the strangest thing of all, in Mr.Twemlow's opinion, was her curious persistence about Queen Mabonga.

Could any black woman--and she supposed she must be that--be considered by white people to be beautiful?
Had Captain Southcombe ever even seen her; and if not, how could he be in such raptures about her attractions?
She did not like to say a word, because he had been so kind and so faithful to those poor soldiers, whom it was his duty to bring home safe; but if it had not been for that, she might have thought that with so many children and a wife at Limehouse, he should not have allowed his mind to dwell so fondly on the personal appearance of a negress! The Rector was astonished at this injustice, and began to revise his opinion about Faith as the fairest and sweetest girl in all the world; but Mrs.Twemlow smiled, when she had left off crying, and said that she liked the dear child all the better for concluding that Ponga--or whatever her name was--must of necessity and at the first glance fall desperately in love with her own Erle.

Then the Rector cried, "Oh, to be sure, that explained it! But he never could have thought of that, without his wife's assistance." Two years now, two years of quiet patience, of busy cheerfulness now and then, and of kindness to others always, had made of Faith Darling a lady to be loved for a hundred years, and for ever.

The sense of her sorrow was never far from her, yet never brought near to any other by herself; and her smile was as warm, and her eyes as bright, as if there had never been a shadow on her youth.

To be greeted by her, and to receive her hand, and one sweet glance of her large goodwill, was enough to make an old man feel that he must have been good at some time, and a young man hope that he should be so by-and-by; though the tendency was generally contented with the hope..