But it was her face with the stamp of intellect and power shadowing its woman's loveliness that must have made her remarkable among women even more beautiful than herself.
There are many girls who have rich brown hair, like some autumn leaf here and there just yellowing into gold, girls whose deep grey eyes can grow tender as a dove's, or flash like the stirred waters of a northern sea, and whose bloom can bear comparison with the wilding rose.

But few can show a face like that which upon this day first dawned on Geoffrey Bingham to his sorrow and his hope.

It was strong and pure and sweet as the keen sea breath, and looking on it one must know that beneath this fair cloak lay a wit as fair.

And yet it was all womanly; here was not the hard sexless stamp of the "cultured" female.

She who owned it was capable of many things.