will think it was clever
and a fine joke, and will think more about my fine appearance than about
being good all day long."

Sophia was terribly roused by the torrent of feeling that was now
pouring forth, not more in words than in silent force, from the young
woman who stood over her.

"Go!" she cried, "go to such people. Marry the man who cares for your
hair and your good looks. Urge him on to make money, and buy yourself
clothes and carriages and houses. I have no doubt you can do it! I tell
you, Eliza Cameron, such things are not much worth picking up at a gift,
let alone selling the nicer part of yourself for them!"

The two had suddenly clashed, with word and feeling, the one against the
other.

The window of Eliza's room was open, and the prospect from it had that
far-off peace that the prospect from high windows is apt to have. The
perfect weather breathed calm over the distant land, over the nearer
village; but inside, the full light fell upon the two women aglow with
their quarrel.

Sophia, feeling some instinctive link to the vain, ambitious girl before
her, struck with words as one strikes in the dark, aiming at a depth and
tenderness that she dimly felt to be there.

She believed in, and yet doubted, the strength in the better part of
Eliza's heart; believed, but spoke hurriedly, because she felt that a
chilly doubt was coming over her as to whether, after all, there was any
comprehension, any answering thrill, for the words she said.

Her own stately beauty was at its height, at its loveliest hour, when
she spoke. She had been, in girlhood, what is called a beauty; she had
dazzled men's eyes and turned their heads; and when the first bloom was
past, she had gone out of the glare, having neither satisfied the world
nor been satisfied with it, because of the higher craving that is
worldly disability. She had turned into the common paths of life and
looked upon her beauty and her triumph as past. And yet, ten years
after the triumphs of her girlhood, this day, this hour, found her more
beautiful than she had ever been before. The stimulus of a new and more
perfect climate, the daily labour for which others pitied her, had done
their part. The angels who watch over prayer and effort and failure; and
failure and effort and prayer, had laid their hands upon her brow,
bestowing graces. As she sat now, speaking out of a full heart, there
came a colour and light that gave an ethereal charm to her handsome