But when blonde women have a talent for mischief, they delicately distinguish themselves from the brunettes in the style of it. For downright, unadulterated mischief, let us be commended to the blonde women of the Indo-Germanic races. And frequently it is merely organic, with no more premeditation or sense of consciousness than a stinging-nettle has. They know how to be unaffectedly unscrupulous, as Miss Rosamond Vincy was in "Middlemarch," with a gay versatility that is rare in women of a differently-tempered color. Your _riant_ blonde can drop a bolt from a clear sky, and scatter your long-projected picnic with sudden misery. As you look up, it is hardly credible: how or when did the weather change? You almost doubt the evidence of sense. Darnley must have been blown up by accident. There will always be two parties relative to any transaction which implicates a blonde woman, because her resources of demeanor are so ample, she can recur to them so nimbly, she can meet gathering suspicions with such angelic refutation in her smile, and the sluice-gates of emotion are so nicely hung that a touch of taper fingers can let into the scene a freshet of disclaimer that sweeps your rubbishy doubts away. Not a smut escapes from the internal simmering to settle upon the snow-white guarantee of appearance. She reminds us of that adaptation to machines which exercise a driving-power, by which they are enabled to consume their own smoke and cinders. Her transparency of skin, and the freshness of color that spreads up to the temple's whiteness like an after-glow upon the glacier, lend the proper blush to all her actions. She enjoys the constant advantage of a face that has the traditional tint of innocency: when delicate culture and mobile gifts are behind, sportive moods come out to make a charming din that just drowns the blab of mischief. If the poets have assigned good and noble actions to the blonde women of the imagination, the same function working in legendary lore has attributed from the most ancient times, and with striking persistency, mankind's woes to golden beauties. "Lilith, the first wife of Adam, was a cold, passionless, splendid woman, with wondrous golden hair. She was created Adam's equal in every respect, therefore properly enough refused to obey him. For this she was driven from the Garden of Eden; and Eve was made to order out of one of Adam's ribs. Then the Golden-haired Lilith, jealous, enraged, pining for her lost home in Paradise, took the form of a serpent, crept into the garden, and tempted Adam and Eve to their destruction. And from that day to this, Lilith, the cold, passionless beauty with golden hair, has roamed up and down the earth, snaring the sons of Adam and destroying them. You may always know her dead victims; for, whenever a man has been destroyed by the hands of Lilith, you will always find a single golden hair wrapped tight around his lifeless heart."[22]