And thus, from different sections, arose a kind of magnetic life, as each individual's thoughts went out and centered there.
Dawn was dressed in white, with scarlet sash, and coral ornaments. She seemed like a ray of light flashing through darkness. Her soft, brown hair hung in wavy curls over her shoulders, and the involuntary exclamation was, “How beautiful,” as the pure light and brightness of her inner being shone through and over the external.
At dusk, the carriages began to appear, winding up the long avenue, which led to the house. Then came a few persons on foot, and in an hour all the bustle and stir attendant upon a crowd was heard in the hall, on the stairs, and in every room. The house was all aglow with life, and lines of care and sorrow were swept away by radiant smiles.
Masks were drawn over aching hearts; jealousies, envyings, and all strifes were put at bay, and the better natures of all were called forth, and responded, each to each. Palm grasped palm, that had not in the ordinary relations of life thrilled with contact for many years. Hearts that had grown cold and callous under slights, and chilling indifferences, were warmed anew in the social atmosphere which filled the whole house; and then the sound of music swept through the rooms, lifting all out of their narrowness into higher and better states.
Mr. Wyman had a word of cheer and love for all, and delicately brought such temperaments together as could best enjoy companionship, and for the time kept himself aloof from those he loved best, that others might partake of their genial natures.
“Can you tell me who that tall, graceful lady is?” asked Miss Vernon, before Mr. Wyman was aware that she was at his side.
“A Mrs. Hammond,” he replied, without looking at her.
“She is very elegant,” continued Miss Vernon.
“She is, externally.”
“What, not lovely in mind? Can it be that such an exterior covers unloveliness?”