In a small room, however, or in a good light, the crude pinks and whites with which she had concealed her sallow cheeks became painfully harsh and artificial.

Her own natural beauty, however, still lingered in that last refuge of beauty--the eyes, which were large, dark, and sympathetic.

Her mouth, too, was small and amiable, and her most frequent expression was a smile, which seldom broadened into a laugh, as she had her own reasons for preferring that her teeth should not be seen.

As to her bearing, it was so dignified, that if this little West Indian had come straight from the loins of Charlemagne, it could not have been improved upon.

Her walk, her glance, the sweep of her dress, the wave of her hand--they had all the happiest mixture of the sweetness of a woman and the condescension of a queen.