For a full half-hour she had indulged in that revery, all the while moving slowly up and down, the fixed resolution of her face growing harder, and her eyes turned resolutely toward the shadows, as if there was something in the cheerful radiance at the other end of the room which caused her pain or annoyance.
In that dim light, the countenance had an expression from which one entering unperceived would have shrunk instinctively; yet a portrait of the face, painted as it appeared among the shadows, would hardly have been recognized by those daily accustomed to a view of the features.
Perhaps it was the gloom around which gave the face that look—cold, hard, unrelenting force—and lent the eyes that subtle, dangerous gleam.
Some noise from without disturbed her reflections; she dropped her arms to her side, and passed quietly toward the middle of the room. As she stood for an instant by the table, the rosy light of the approaching sunset played full upon her face; it scarcely seemed possible it could be the one which looked so dark and cruel among the shadows only a moment before.
An erect, well-proportioned figure, rather below the medium height, yet so graceful and elegant that at the first glance one would have pronounced her tall. She was still quite young, out of her teens possibly, but no one would have judged her twenty-one—in the twilight her face had appeared ten years older at least.
The features were finely cut, the lips a trifle too thin, perhaps, but the complexion was wonderfully delicate; rich masses of light brown hair, which in the sunlight took a golden tinge, were brushed in wavy folds back from the smooth, low forehead, underneath which the gray eyes looked out as calm and cold as though deep emotion had never brought shadows or tears into their depths.
It would have been a very acute observer that could have read that pale, secretive face. One might have lived years in daily intercourse with her, and never believed her any thing but a quiet person, yielding herself good-naturedly to the plans or amusements of others, and finding sufficient content therein.
While she stood by the table, the tramp of horses sounded upon the gravel sweep without; she moved to the window, and remained watching the groom as he led a couple of saddle-horses up and down before the side-entrance of the house.
Very soon there was a sound of opening doors, and a man's voice called from the hall:
"Margaret! Miss Waring!"