It was the face of a woman who still retained the lines and the colouring of youth.

The voice had harshened with age, and the hair was white as wool, but the cheeks were still rosy and the grey eyes still had fire.

Notable beauty had once been there.

The finely arched brows, the oval of the face which the years had scarcely sharpened, the proud, delicate nose, all spoke of it.

It was as if their possessor recognised those things and would not part with them, for her attire had none of the dishevelment of a sickroom.