There was a sort of clumsiness in the shape of every
outline, and a coarseness in the colouring, that made her like a bad
drawing of one of his own girls; the eyes were larger, the red of the
cheeks was redder, the lips were thicker, the teeth were irregular;
the figure, instead of being what the French call elance, was
short, high-shouldered, and thick-set, and the head looked too large.
She was over-dressed, too, with a smart hat and spangled feather, a
womanly silk mantle and much-trimmed skirt, from which a heavy
quilling had detached itself, and was trailing on the ground; her
hands were ungloved, and showed red stumpy fingers, but her face had
a bright open honest heartiness of expression, and a sort of resolute
straightforwardness, that attracted and pleased him; and, moreover,
there was something in the family likeness, grotesque as it was, that
could not but arouse a fellow-feeling in his warm and open heart,
which neither neglect nor misfortune had ever chilled.
'I think I should have known you,' he said, smiling. 'Here! let me
introduce you; here is our little lame white-hearted Cherry, and the
twins, as like as two peas. Wilmet, Alda--here!'
'Shall I mend your frock!' was Wilmet's first greeting, as she put
her hand in her pocket, and produced a little housewife.
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