Charles Auchester, Volume 2 (of 2)Sheppard, Elizabeth Sara
General
Charles Auchester, Volume 2 (of 2)
Sheppard, Elizabeth Sara
Musical fiction
It is impossible to describe the nameless change that had crept upon
those faultless features, nor how it touched me, clove to my heart
within. Seraphael had entirely lost the flitting healthful bloom of
his very early youth: a perfect paleness toned his face, as if with
purity out-shadowed,--such pearly clearness flinging into relief the
starry distance of his full, deep-colored eyes; the forehead more
bare, more arched, was distinctly veined, and the temples were of
chiselled keenness; the cheek was thinner, the Hebrew contour more
defined; the countenance had gained in apparent calm, but when meeting
his gaze you could peer into those orbs so evening-blue, their
starlight was passionately restless.
He was talking to Miss Lawrence; he scarcely ceased, but his
conversation was evidently not that which imported anything to
himself,--not the least shade of change thwarted the paleness I have
mentioned, which was that of watchfulness or of intense fatigue. She
to whom he spoke, on the contrary, seemed passed into another form;
she brightened more and more, she flashed, not only from her splendid
eyes, but from her glowing cheek, her brilliant smile: she was on fire
with joy that would not be extinguished; it assuredly was the time of
"all her wealth," and had her mood possessed no other charm, it would
have excited my furious taste by its interesting contrast with his
pale aspect and indrawn expression.
It was during dessert, when the converse had sprung up like a sudden
air in a calm, when politeness quickened and elegance unconsciously
thawed, that--as I watched the little hands I so loved gleaming in the
purple of the grapes which the light fingers separated one by one--I
passed insensibly to the countenance. It was smiling, and for me: a
sudden light broke through the lips, which folded themselves again
instantly, as if never to smile again; but not until I had known the
dawn of the old living expression, that, though it had slept, I felt
now was able to awaken, and with more thankfulness than I can put into
words. He was of those who stood at the door when the ladies withdrew,
and after their retreat he began to speak to me across the table,
serving me, with a skill I could not appreciate too delicately, to the
merest trivialities, and making a sign to Starwood to take the chair
now empty next me.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Elsewhere in the archive
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account