"
"You can see the smoke on the edge of the sea. Look below it."
He handed the glasses to her again and heard a little laugh of delight
break from her lips. The surprise of the suddenly-magnified spectacle,
visible only as a shadow to the naked eye, brought laughter; and Barron,
now that the girl's attention was occupied, had leisure to look at her. She
was more than a pretty cottage maid, and possessed some distinction and
charm. There was a delicacy about her too--a sweet turn of lip, a purity of
skin, a set of limb--which gave the lie to her rough speech. She was all
Saxon to look at, with nothing of the Celt about her excepting her name and
the old Cornish words upon her lips. Those he rejoiced in, for they showed
that she still remained a free thing, primitive, innocent of School Boards,
or like frost-biting influences.
Barron took mental notes. Joan Tregenza was a careless young woman, it
seemed. Her dress had a button or two missing in front, and a safety-pin
had taken their place. Her drab skirt was frayed a little and patched in
one corner with a square of another material. But the colors were well
enough, from the artist's point of view. He noted also that the girl's
stockings were darned and badly needed further attention, for above her
right shoe-heel a white scrap of Joan was visible. Her hands were a little
large, but well shaped; her pose was free and fine, though the
field-glasses spoiled the picture and the sun-bonnet hid the contour of her
head.
Pages:
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32