"I do not offer more than thirty pounds a year."
"It will be quite sufficient for me," replied Mabel.
"The weather is warm," returned Mrs. Noble, after a long silence, which she suffered without the slightest appearance of impatience; "You had better take off your bonnet and shawl."
Mabel hesitated, but Mr. Morley interposed.
"Take them off; she wants to see what you look like."
"You are quick," said Mrs. Noble, laughing, drowsily.
Mabel instantly laid aside her heavy crape wrappings, with a blush and half a smile, as she stood as gracefully erect, as if for the artist's hand to sketch.
Mrs. Noble fixed her small gimlet eyes upon her face, as if she would have read every sign which might be found there. Beauty rested in every line of her fair features—yet, few would stop to call her beautiful, even when asleep. Candid, intellectual, gentle, affectionate, high-minded, pure—any thing but beautiful. And nothing gained more upon the confidence of others, than the confiding way she seemed to have, as if she could not help believing that all were as truthful and true hearted as she was herself.
"Good," said Mrs. Noble, "good, if I read that book right—I care not how soon my children learn it by heart."