ndrous
in expression. We never mind much a nose, unless it be ugly to a
deformity, or a model for the sculptor. An Angelo would have thrilled at
sight of Della's nose, and straightway wrought it into immortality,
_alto relievo_. Her mouth and chin were as lovely and divinely rounded
as any Madonna's. The shape of her head was superb; and she wore her
hair, which was truly a glory in itself, somewhat like a crown, which
left her finely curved ear liberty to show itself and to hear everything
that was going on. Many would have rhapsodised over her lithe, slender
form. Not we. More admirable that faithful approach to those olden
models of the human form that exist in artists' studios and adorn grand
rooms of princely connoisseurs.

Nature is everywhere lovely. Had the ancient Greeks chiselled but the
wasp waists of our modern belles, their hideous works would have sunk
into oblivion in as little time as our self-made martyrs drop into early
graves.

Not saying that Della Lisle, whose waist you could _not_ "span with your
two hands," had foolishly contributed to make less its natural size, but
it was painfully suggestive of weakened lungs and an early translation.

Ellice, on the contrary, possessed a low, plump figure, all curve and
dimple, with no appearance of angularity or stiffness. She had a fair,
round face, cheeks in which roses came and went, laughing blue eyes, a
wide, low brow, auburn curls, nose not _retrousse_, but the least bit
inclined that way, white teeth, somewhat large, but pretty, that really
_did_ look like pearls between such cherry-red lips.

You might stand in respect and admiration before the dignified and
intellectual Della Lisle; but Ellice Linwood you would take to your
heart. If you were gay, she would laugh with you; if serious, she would
become pensive; if sick, she would soothe and comfort you.

She was the most unselfish creature in existence. Self-denial ceased to
become such to her; her happiness was in yours alone.

All things about the plantation brightened in presence of these two
young maidens. Old servants grew more youthful, the young wiser and
happier, and all, from black to brown, from young to old, as they looked
upon the bright face of the northern stranger, turned dreamer and
prophet. And this is what they dreamed and wished and foretold: that
Master Duncan would make Ellice his wife and keep her forever.

And Duncan? Well, while such a spirit of prophecy reigned all arou