She handed the lamp to him; he took it reluctantly, just allowed its ray to fall upon me, then laid it down with a sigh. "Poor little thing!" he observed, sadly. "But it might have been much worse," said Miriam, gently. "Much worse," he echoed. I could not imagine what they were talking of. "I am almost well again, Cornelius," I said. "I am glad of it," he replied, cheerfully; then turning to Miriam, he again entreated her to go. "With you," was her brief reply. He complied: as they went out together, I heard him chiding her for her imprudent kindness. She did not answer, but smiled silently as the door closed upon them. On learning the visit Cornelius had paid me, Kate was very angry. To our mutual relief he did not suffer from it, and even repeated it in a few days, in order to take me down to the parlour, where I had begged hard to take tea with him and Kate. As he lifted me up in the heavy shawl which wrapped me, Cornelius sighed. "My poor little Daisy," he said, "how light, how very light you are getting!" "Oh! but," I replied, a little nettled, "I am to improve so much, you know--at least Miss Russell said so--you remember?" He gave me a rueful look, and, without replying, took me downstairs. Miss Russell sat by the table looking over a volume of prints; she just raised her eyes to say quietly-- "I am glad you are well again, Daisy," but took no other notice of me. Cornelius laid me down on the couch, and sitting on the edge, asked me how I felt. "Very well, Cornelius," I replied, and half rising, I passed my arms around his neck and kissed him. He returned the caress, and at the same time gently tried to make me lie down again. I detected the uneasy look he cast at the mirror over the mantle-piece which we both faced; I wanted to look too; he held me down tenderly, but firmly. "Not yet, my pet," he said with some emotion, "you must promise not to look at yourself until I tell you." The truth flashed on me: I was disfigured; I know not how it had never occurred to me before. I burst into tears, and hid my face in the pillow of the sofa. Cornelius vainly tried to comfort me: I would not even look up at him; to be told by him, and before her, of my disgrace, was too bitter, too galling. "Shall we love you less?" asked Cornelius. "Besides, what is beauty?" inquired Kate. Miriam said nothing. I did not regret beauty, which had never been mine to lose, but I lamented the woful change from plainness to downright ugliness. "I know I am like Mr. Trim," I despairingly exclaimed,--"without eyebrows or eyelashes." "Indeed," replied Cornelius, "your eyelashes are as long, and, like your eyebrows, as beautifully dark as ever. Let that comfort you."