She is quite small--a _little_ girl--and clad in deep mourning.

There is something pathetic about the dense black surrounding such a radiant face, and such a childish figure.

Her eyes are fixed on the professor, and there is evident anxiety in their hazel depths; her soft lips are parted; she seems hesitating as if not knowing whether she shall smile or sigh.

She has raised both her hands as if unconsciously, and is holding them clasped against her breast.

The pretty fingers are covered with costly rings.