The young Contessa Violante, when she reached the age of young-
ladyhood, had not the "fatal gift of beauty." Some people think that
such a deprivation is the most unfortunate from which a woman can
suffer. Others maintain that the absence of beauty is, upon the
whole, no real misfortune. But however philosophers may settle this
question, it can hardly be doubted that no young girl devoid of
beauty, was ever yet persuaded that to be unattractive in
appearance, was otherwise than a very, very sore affliction and
misfortune. Nature often kindly mitigates the blow by making the
unlovely girl unconscious of her want of beauty. But this was not
the case with the young Contessa Violante Marliani.
Violante knew that she was not beautiful, or even pretty. Probably
in her own estimate of herself she exaggerated her plainness. She
was one of those persons who have not the gift of self-deception.
Neither was she elegant in person. And yet there was something about
her bearing, which would have prevented any one from imagining that
she was other than a high-born lady. There was strong evidence of
intellect in her face; and it was doubtless from within that came
that quiet dignity of bearing that marked her.
And it was a dignity compatible and combined with the most perfect
gentleness and almost humility of manner;--a dignity arising not
from the conscious ness of any high position or high qualities, but
from the consciousness of that sort of gentle passive strength,
which knows that no external circumstance, or difficulty, or
pressure will avail to make its owner step but a hair's breadth
aside from the path which conscience has marked as that of right and
duty.
Pages:
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198