Then Mr.Raby rose and seemed to bend his mind inward, but he neither forbade, nor encouraged, this impulsive act of Grace Carden's.
Now there was not a man nor a woman in the room whose curiosity had not been more or less excited about this picture; so there was a general movement toward it, of all but Mr.Raby, who stood quite still, turning his eye inward, and evidently much moved, though passive.
There happened to be a strong light upon the picture, and the lovely olive face, the vivid features, and glorious black eyes and eyebrows, seemed to flash out of the canvas into life.
Even the living faces, being blondes, paled before it, in the one particular of color.

They seemed fair glittering moons, and this a glowing sun.
Grace's first feelings were those of simple surprise and admiration.
But, as she gazed, Henry's words returned to her, and all manner of ideas struck her pell-mell.

"Oh, beautiful! beautiful!" she cried.

Then, turning to Henry, "You are right; it was not a face to hide from the world--oh! the likeness! just look at HIM, and then at her! can I be mistaken ?" This appeal was made to the company, and roused curiosity to a high pitch; every eye began to compare the dark-skinned beauty on the wall with the swarthy young man, who now stood there, and submitted in haughty silence to the comparison.
The words caught Mr.Raby's attention.

He made a start, and elbowing them all out of his way, strode up to the picture.
"What do you say, Miss Carden?
What likeness can there be between my sister and a smith ?" and he turned and frowned haughtily on Henry Little.
Henry returned his look of defiance directly.
But that very exchange of defiance brought out another likeness, which Grace's quick eye seized directly.
"Why, he is still liker you," she cried.