There was a thistledown touch on my cheek from behind and turning I saw the laughing face I sought looking up at me.

I tell you, my mother, there never was such a pair of eyes.

Their long, dark lashes and the glow between them I remember chiefly.

The latter was the friendly light of her spirit To me it was like a candle in the window to guide my feet.
'Come,' it seemed to say.

'Here is a welcome for you.' I saw the pink in her cheeks, the crimson in her lips, the white of her neck, the glow of her abundant hair, the shapeliness of brow and nose and chin in that first glance.