“‘Let her be,’ he would reply, with masculine preremptoriness, ‘we must not force nature. When the time comes for her womanly instincts to develop, not an English matron or even our own clever Margaret will excel Crystal then.’ And still, more strange to say, he rather stimulated than repressed my vanity; and so I grew up quite conscious of my own personal attractions; but without the knowledge having undue weight with me.
“From the first he would have me dressed in the quaint, rich style in which I came to them first.
“‘It suits her peculiar style of beauty,’ I heard him once say, when Margaret remonstrated with him on the extravagance of the idea. I was curled up on the window-seat, reading, and they did not think I was listening.
“‘Raby is right,’ observed Uncle Rolf; ‘she will never make a quiet-looking English girl like our Maggie here—were you to dress her as a Puritan or a Quaker; ah, she will break hearts enough, I’ll warrant, with those dark, witch eyes of hers; we must be careful of the child! If Bianca’s beauty were like her daughter’s, one can not wonder much at poor Edmund’s choice.’
“Something in my uncle’s speech aroused my childish petulance. I closed my book and came forward.
“‘I don’t want to break any hearts!’ I cried, angrily; ‘I only want Raby’s—I am going to belong to Raby all my life, I will never leave him, never!’ and I stamped my foot in a little fury.
“They all laughed, Uncle Rolf long and merrily, but Raby colored up as he smiled.
“‘That’s right, darling,’ he said, in a low voice. ‘Now go back to your book.’ And I went at once obediently.
“When I bade him good-night that evening, and stood lingering by his chair on some pretext or other, he suddenly took hold of me and drew me toward him.
“‘Little Crystal,’ he said, ‘you think you love Raby indeed; I am sure you do, and Heaven knows how sweet your childish affection is to me; but do you know—will you ever know how Raby loves you?’ and putting his hands on my head he bade God bless my innocent face, and let me go.