Over grass which fondled his
feet like the lap of an old nurse, he walked slowly round the bed of
the roses, turning again towards the house. But there, half-way
between him and it, was the lady of the garden descending to meet
him!--not ancient like the garden, but young like its flowers,
light-footed, and full of life.
Prepared by her brother to be friendly, she met him with a pleasant
smile, and he saw that the light which shone in her dark eyes had in
it rays of laughter. She had a dark, yet clear complexion, a good
forehead, a nose after no recognized generation of noses, yet an
attractive one, a mouth larger than to human judgment might have
seemed necessary, yet a right pleasing mouth, with two rows of
lovely teeth. All this Donal saw approach without dismay. He was
no more shy with women than with men; while none the less his
feeling towards them partook largely of the reverence of the ideal
knight errant. He would not indeed have been shy in the presence of
an angel of God; for his only courage came of truth, and clothed in
the dignity of his reverence, he could look in the face of the
lovely without perturbation. He would not have sought to hide from
him whose voice was in the garden, but would have made haste to cast
himself at his feet.
Bonnet in hand he advanced to meet Kate Graeme. She held out to him
a well-shaped, good-sized hand, not ignorant of work--capable indeed
of milking a cow to the cow's satisfaction.
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