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Heart

Chapter 2 HOW THE DAUGHTER HAS A HEART; AND, WHAT IS COMMONER, A LOVER.

Word Count: 1242    |    Released on: 06/12/2017

adornment and cosmetic in the world. The mixture of two such conflicting characters as her father and mother might (with common Providence to bl

arity lent music to her tongue, and added beauty to her eyes-charity gave grace to an otherwise ordinary figure, and lit her freckled cheek with the spirit of loveliness. Let us be just-nay, more: let us be partial, to the good looks of poor dear Maria. Notwithstanding the snub nose (it is not snub; who says it is snub?-it is mignon, personified good nature)-notwithstanding the carroty hair (I declare, it was nothing but a fine pale auburn after all)-notwithstanding the peppered face (oh, how sweetly rayed with smiles!) and the common figure (gentle, unobtrusive, full of delicate attentions)-yes, notwithstanding all these unheroinals, no one who had a heart himself could look upon Maria without pleasure and approval. She was the very incarnation of cheerfulness, kindness, and love: you forgot the greenish colour of those eyes which looked so tenderly at you, and so often-times were dimmed with tears of unaffected pity; her smil

grew upon your admiration gradually-a character to like at first just a little; then to be led onwards imperceptibly from liking to loving; and thence from fe

o much advantage with the affected coquette, the cold formal prude, the flippant woman of fashion, the empty heads and hollow hearts wherewithal society is peopled. He had long been wearied out with shallow courtesies, frigid compliments,

nd more charmed on every fresh occasion. How heartily glad she was to see him! how unaffectedly sincere in her amiable joy! how like

her so attractive; nor that, following diligently his points of advantage, he progressed from acquaintanceship to

ttachment, or to plague him with impertinent advice. His father, Captain Clements of the seventieth, had fallen "gloriously" on the bloody field of Waterloo, and the pensioned widow had survived her gallant hero barely nine winters; leaving little Henry thrown upon the wide world at ten years of age, under the nominal guardianship of some very distant Ulster c

oach so delicate a business to her till the daughter had looked favourably as aforesaid, set aside her ladyship's formidable state of quiescence, and apparent (though only apparent) lack of sympathy. So the lover still went on sunning his soul from time to time in Maria's kindly smiles, until one day, that is, yesterday, they mutually found out by some happy accident how very dear they were to each other; and

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