I do recollect this picture, though, I am nearly certain.

What a singular child's face!' And my cousin leaned over it with a candle on each side, and her hand shading her eyes, as if seeking by aid of these fair and half-formed lineaments to read an enigma.
The childish features defied her, I suppose; their secret was unfathomable, for after a good while she raised her head, still looking at the portrait, and sighed.
'A very singular face,' she said, softly, as a person might who was looking into a coffin.

'Had not we better replace it ?' So the pretty oval, containing the fair golden hair and large eyes, the pale, unfathomable sphinx, remounted to its nail, and the _funeste_ and beautiful child seemed to smile down oracularly on our conjectures.
'So is the face in the large portrait--_very_ singular--more, I think, than that--handsomer too.

This is a sickly child, I think; but the full-length is so manly, though so slender, and so handsome too.

I always think him a hero and a mystery, and they won't tell me about him, and I can only dream and wonder.' 'He has made more people than you dream and wonder, my dear Maud.