once in the life of my Lilias, when she was very young, and on the
question of some toy or sweetmeat which my departed Saint had denied
her, did I notice that Terrible Look in her blue eyes. My wife, who,
albeit the most merciful soul alive, ever maintained strict discipline
in her household, would have corrected the child for what she set down
as flat mutiny and rebellion; but I stayed her chastening hand, and bade
the young girl walk awhile in the garden until her heat was abated; and
as she went away, her little breast heaving, her little hands clenched,
and the Terrible Look darting out on me through the silken tangles of
her dear hair, I shuddered, and said, "Wife of mine, our Lilias's look
is one she cannot help. It comes from Me, you may have seen it fiercer
and fiercer in mine own eyes; and She, whom of all women I loved and
venerated, looked thus when anger overcame her. And though I never knew
my own dear Mother, she, or I greatly mistake, must have had that look
in hers likewise."

I thank Heaven that those pure blue waters, limpid and bright, in my
Lilias's orbs were nevermore ruffled by that storm. As she grew up,
their expression became even softer and kinder, and she never ceased
from being in the likeness of an Angel. She looks like one now, and will
be one, I trust, some day, Above, where she can pray for her danger-worn
old sire.

My own wife (whose name was Lilias too) was a merry, plump,
ruddy-skinned little woman--a very baby in these strong arms of mine.
She had laughing black eyes, and coal-black tresses, and lips which were
always at vintage-time. Although her only child takes after me, not her,
in face and carriage, in all things else she resembles my Saint. She is
as merry, as light-hearted, as pure and good, as she was. She has the
same humble, pious Faith; the same strong, inflexible will of abiding by
Right; the same hearty, outspoken hatred of Wrong, abhorrence of Wrong.
She has the same patience, cheerfulness, and obedience in her behaviour
to those who are set in authority over her; and if I am by times
angered, or peevish, or moody, she bears with my infirmities in the same
meek, loving, and forgiving spirit. She has her Mother's grace, her
Mother's voice, her Mother's ringing voice. She has her Mother's
infinite care of and benevolence to the poor and needy. She has her
Mother's love for merry sports and innocent romps. Like my departed
Saint, she has an exquisitely neat and quick hand