Before him the
wilfulness which made her dark eyes blaze out at times was hushed
and still; he had no idea of her self-tormenting, no notion of
the almost southern jealousy which seemed to belong to her
brunette complexion. Jemima was not pretty; the flatness and
shortness of her face made her almost plain; yet most people
looked twice at her expressive countenance, at the eyes which
flamed or melted at every trifle, at the rich colour which came
at every expressed emotion into her usually sallow face, at the
faultless teeth which made her smile like a sunbeam. But then,
again, when she thought she was not kindly treated, when a
suspicion crossed her mind, or when she was angry with herself,
her lips were tight-pressed together, her colour was wan and
almost livid, and a stormy gloom clouded her eyes as with a film.
But before her father her words were few, and he did not notice
looks or tones.
Her brother Richard had been equally silent before his father in
boyhood and early youth; but since he had gone to be a clerk in a
London house, preparatory to assuming his place as junior partner
in Mr. Bradshaw's business, he spoke more on his occasional
visits at home. And very proper and highly moral was his
conversation; set sentences of goodness, which were like the
flowers that children stick in the ground, and that have not
sprung upwards from roots--deep down in the hidden life and
experience of the heart.
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