Mere facial beauty would not have made this impression on him--it was something deeper, something more substantial and abiding.

And, watching her, he suddenly knew what it was.

There was in her eyes, back of the defiance that was in them now, an expression that told of sturdy honesty and virtue.

These gave to her features a repose and calm that could not be disturbed, an unconscious dignity of character that excitement could not efface, and her gaze was unwavering as her eyes met his in a sharp, brief struggle.

Brief, for Calumet's drooped.