Man commonly reached his anticipated century of years; and it was no extraordinary occurrence to see a hoary-haired veteran of one hundred and twenty-five years surrounded by five or six generations of descendants who had assembled to do him honour on his birthday.
In former times Mercia would have been considered too tall for the ideal of womanly beauty, for she was five feet, ten inches, in height. Indeed, many women attained six feet in these days, but as they were perfectly proportioned, and graceful in movement, their great height gave no idea of awkwardness. Mercia’s form was perfectly moulded, her limbs reminding the beholder of some chaste sculpture of the ancient Greeks, for her flowing robes partially disclosed their contour. Beneath the close-fitting sleeves of her tunic might be seen the fully developed muscles of her arms, which were exquisitely shaped; the firm wrist was small and round, the fore arm tapering upwards until the well-developed muscle of the upper arm was reached. This was not unduly prominent, but was softened and rounded beneath the clear skin, which, creamy white on the inner side, disclosed a faint pink shade on the outer, denoting the presence of perfect health. Her hands were moderately small, but perfect in shape; the fingers were long and tapered, with deep, filbert-shaped nails; indicating the intellectual cast of mind. The palm was tinged with a shell pink, while the back was of transparent, pearly whiteness, and fine as softest satin.
She was not brilliantly fair in complexion, but her skin was beautifully clear; and the soft roses that tinted her oval cheeks paled, or deepened with her varying emotions.
Her beautiful star-like eyes were of an indefinable shade, being neither deep blue, nor brown decidedly. In the sunlight they beamed with a tint borrowed from the deep azure of the heavens just before sunset, in the shade they appeared a lovely, unfathomable brown.
Her nut-brown hair was long, fine, and silky, showing the mental temperament by its delicate texture. The head was fairly large, but well-shaped. The forehead, the seat of intellect, was high, broad, and full. Her eyebrows were well-arched, and curved in fair proportion; but the space between the eyes was great, indicating very considerable development of the perceptive faculties.
It needed no brain specialist to discover at the first glance that Mercia was born to her profession, for her powers of observation and reflection were mapped upon her brow.
Her long brown hair was arranged in glossy coils at the back of the head, in ancient classic style, showing its perfect contour; while the curls near the forehead fluttering like flossy silk, and shimmering in the sun with a golden tint, softened the height of her broad and lofty brow.
Her breadth of chest indicated also that the physical part of her training had reached the fullest perfection. The open collar of her tunic partially disclosed her neck, Juno-shaped, and fine as cream-white satin.
In working hours she dressed in tunic, and trousers, made of dark, fine cloth, while her evening, or reception toilette was composed of flowing robes of bright, soft silk, which hung in graceful folds from her shapely bust, and down her well-formed limbs.
In her was seen personified modesty itself—not that of mere ignorance and shyness—but the modesty born of nobility of mind, wisdom, and purity.