it were, with the texture and substance of her face. In the usual
state of her complexion,--a healthy, though delicate bloom,--the mark
wore a tint of deeper crimson, which imperfectly defined its shape amid
the surrounding rosiness. When she blushed, it gradually became more
indistinct, and finally vanished amid the triumphant rush of blood, that
bathed the whole cheek with its brilliant glow. But, if any shifting
emotion caused her to turn pale, there was the mark again, a crimson
stain upon the snow, in what Aylmer sometimes deemed an almost fearful
distinctness. Its shape bore not a little similarity to the human hand,
though of the smallest pigmy size. Georgiana's lovers were wont to say,
that some fairy, at her birth-hour, had laid her tiny hand upon the
infant's cheek, and left this impress there, in token of the magic
endowments that were to give her such sway over all hearts. Many a
desperate swain would have risked life for the privilege of pressing his
lips to the mysterious hand. It must not be concealed, however, that the
impression wrought by this fairy sign-manual varied exceedingly,
according to the difference of temperament in the beholders. Some
fastidious persons--but they were exclusively of her own sex--affirmed
that the Bloody Hand, as they chose to call it, quite destroyed the
effect of Georgiana's beauty, and rendered her countenance even hideous.
But it would be as reasonable to say, that one of those small blue
stains, which sometimes occur in the purest statuary marble, would
convert the Eve of Powers to a monster. Masculine observers, if the
birth-mark did not heighten their admiration, contented themselves with
wishing it away, that the world might possess one living specimen of
ideal loveliness, without the semblance of a flaw. After his
marriage--for he thought little or nothing of the matter before--Aylmer
discovered that this was the case with himself.

Had she been less beautiful--if Envy's self could have found aught else
to sneer at--he might have felt his affection heightened by the
prettiness of this mimic hand, now vaguely portrayed, now lost, now
stealing forth again, and glimmering to-and-fro with every pulse of
emotion that throbbed within her heart. But, seeing her otherwise so
perfect, he found this one defect grow more and more intolerable, with
every moment of their united lives. It was the fatal flaw of humanity,
which Nature, in one shape or another, stamps ineffaceably on