“What do you say, Miss Carden? What likeness can there be between my sister and a smith?” and he turned and frowned haughtily on Henry Little.
Henry returned his look of defiance directly.
But that very exchange of defiance brought out another likeness, which Grace's quick eye seized directly.
“Why, he is still liker you,” she cried. “Look, good people! Look at all three. Look at their great black eyes, and their brown hair. Look at their dark skins, and their haughty noses. Oh, you needn't blow your nostrils out at me, gentlemen; I am not a bit afraid of either of you.—And then look at this lovely creature. She is a Raby too, only softened down by her sweet womanliness. Look at them all three, if they are not one flesh and blood, I have no eyes.”
“Oh yes, miss; and this lady is his mother. For I have SEEN her; and she is a sweet lady; and she told me I had a Cairnhope face, and kissed me for it.”
Upon this from Jael, the general conviction rose into a hum that buzzed round the room.
Mr. Raby was struck with amazement. At last he turned slowly upon Henry, and said, with stiff politeness, “Is your name Little, sir?”
“Little is my name, and I'm proud of it.”
“Your name may be Little, but your face is Raby. All the better for you, sir.”
He then turned his back to the young man, and walked right in front of the picture, and looked at it steadily and sadly.