Many other English ladies were mingled with the Dutch
ones in the long rows that lined the aisle, and I confess that my
eyes wandered a good deal, guessing which were my countrywomen.
Nearly opposite to me was one of the sweetest faces I have ever seen,
the complexion quite pearly white, the hair of pale gold, in shining
little rings over the brow, which was wonderfully pure, though with
an almost childish overtone. There was peace on the soft dark eyes
and delicately-moulded lips and the fair, oval, though somewhat thin
cheeks. It was a perfect refreshment to see that countenance, and it
reminded me of two most incongruous and dissimilar ones--namely, the
angelic face of the Dutchess de Longueville when I had first seen her
in her innocent, untainted girlhood, and of the expression on the
worn old countenance of Madame Darpent.
I was venturing a glance now and then to delight myself without
disconcerting that gentle lady, when I felt Annora's hand on my arm,
squeezing so hard, poor maid, that her fingers left a purple mark
there, and though she did not speak, I beheld, as it were, darts and
arrows in the gleam of her eyes. And then it was that I saw on the
black velvet dress worn by the lady a part of a necklace of large
pearls--the pearls of Ribaumont--though I should not have known them
again, or perhaps would Nan, save for the wearer.
'Flaunting them in our very faces,' muttered poor Nan; and if eyes
could have slain, hers would have killed the poor Vrow van Hunker on
the spot.
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