Nor did I. I had pictured my cousin Bessie as quite a morbid and prosy
character, suspended midway between a hopeless resignation and a
helpless despair. I thought there must be lines of sadness about her
mouth and a profusion of silver in her hair, I had almost heard her
plaintive sighs, and had begun to invent cures for her nervous
headaches. I do not know why such gloomy foresights loomed up before
me, unless it be because I fancied she was poor and yet educated, and
in our circle at that time it was generally believed that people so
situated were eminently miserable and uncomfortable. We will not be
satisfied with the uncertain until we have made mental sketches of the
people and places connected with it, even though they be all awry, as
mine were in this instance.
Cousin Bessie was a tall, graceful woman with chestnut brown hair and
fine soft eyes, her figure was slight as a girl's, though she was no
longer young, and her step was as active and light as ever it could
have been in her maiden days. She was not a beautiful woman, but there
was as much kindness and dignity combined in her dear face as to make
it more attractive than many a handsome one. I was simply charmed with
her appearance and manner, and made up my mind that I had no further
reason to be solicitous about my future happiness after she had taken
me securely under her charge.
Cousin Bessie's household consisted of her husband, Robert Nyle, and
their two children, Zita and Louis.
Pages:
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246