She had that clear, bright whiteness of skin that is seen only in Frenchwomen, and only here and there among these; whiteness as of fire behind alabaster.

Her hair was black and soft, and the lashes lay like jet on her cheek, as she stood looking down, smiling a little, feeling so happy, so pleased that she was pleasing others.

And now, when she raised her eyes, they were seen to be dark and soft, too; but with what fire in their depths, what sunny light of joy,--the joy of a child among children! De Arthenay started, and his hands clenched themselves unconsciously.

Marie started, too, as she met the stern gaze fixed upon her, and the joyous light faded from her eyes.

Rudely it broke in upon her pleasant thoughts,--this vision of a set, bearded face, with cold blue eyes that yet had a flame in them, like a spark struck from steel.