Sometimes, it is true, you might perceive upon her brow what resembled the shadow of a cloud floating over the bright autumn fields--and in her eyes a thoughtful dew, which made them swim, veiling their light from you; but this was seldom.

As I have spoken of her, such she was--a bright spirit, who seemed to scatter around her joy and laughter, gilding all the world she lived in with the kindness of her smiles.
"Such, _amigo mio_, was little Redbud when I knew her; and I have spoken of her as well as I could.

No one can be more conscious of the insufficiency of my outline than myself.

My only excuse is, a want of that faculty of the brain which--uniting memory, that is to say, the heart, with criticism, which is the intellect--is able to embody with the lips, or the pen, such figures as have appeared upon the horizon of life.

I can only say that I never went near the child, but I was made better by her sincere voice.