Wlliam Gilmore Simms
Joscelyn: A Tale of the Revolution >> Chapter IV: Grace and Angelica >> Page 42

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Novel (Romance) | The Reprint Company | 1975, 1976
Transcription 42JOSCELYN
This was strong language, especially after the lecture of her
mother. But when was the too conscious beauty ever wise?
And he of whom she spoke?
He was just then entering the house, below stairs, having been
delayed at the stable in a conference with his groom. Slowly, and
sadly musing as he came, he drew nigh the porch without seeing
that he was waited for, until at the very entrance, when he found
himself suddenly confronted by a young woman.
This was Grace Kirkland, the elder sister of Angelica, but with-
out any portion of her beauty.
Grace was homely. The face was fair and sweet, but the features,
blended or separate, were without any special attractions. Her hair
was long, like that of her sister, but of coarser fibre, and far less
etherial hue. It was brown, and so was her complexion. But the
dark and shaded eyes were dewy, and not wanting in brightness,
and the general expression of her features was pleasant.
If the consciousness of beauty was strong in her sister's mind,
her's was not less possessed of the consciousness of her own home-
liness. She was modest, accordingly, to humility, amiable and
solicitous to please; yet, so unobtrusively, that her solicitude seemed
always the most natural conduct, proper to herself especially, and
so grateful to those whom she approached.
"Ah! Grace, what have you there?"
"Some buttermilk, Stephen, fresh from the churn. I have brought
this bowl of it for you."
"But, where's your share?"
"Oh! we have all drank already."
"You are very good, Grace."
"Thank you; but tell me that you find the buttermilk good, and
I shall be satisfied. I churned it myself."
"It is excellent so cool, so sweet. You do everything well,
Grace." And, handing back the bowl, he laid his hand on her
shoulder, and looked gratefully into her face, nor did he blind
and insensible that he was perceive that her eyes drooped beneath
his glance, and the swarthy nut brown of her cheeks was suffused
with a glow, like sunset, that almost made her handsome.
Grace hastily retreated with the bowl to the pantry, and there sate,
with the door closed, her cheeks still burning and her heart palpi-