Her large eyes had always lacked something of rapid, glancing, sparkling brightness.

They had been glorious eyes to him, and in those early days he had not known that they lacked aught; but he had perceived, or perhaps fancied, that now, in her present condition, they were often cold, and sometimes almost cruel.

Nevertheless, he was ready to swear that she was perfect in her beauty.
Poor Florence Burton was short of stature, was brown, meagre, and poor-looking.

So said Harry Clavering to himself.

Her small band, though soft, lacked that wondrous charm of touch which Julia's possessed.