"Must I use uncommon?" said Constance, significantly.
"No; but these may say one thing or another."
"I have said one thing," said Constance; "and now you may say the other."
"Pardon me you have said nothing. These epithets are deserved by a great many faces, but on very different grounds; and the praise is a different thing, accordingly."
"Well, what is the difference?" said Constance.
"On what do you think this lady's title to it rests?"
"On what? why, on that bewitching little air of the eyes and mouth, I suppose."
"Bewitching is a very vague term," said he, smiling again, more quietly. "But you have had an opportunity of knowing it much better of late than I to which class of bright faces would you refer this one? Where does the light come from?"
"I never studied faces in a class," said Constance, a little scornfully. "Come from? a region of mist and clouds, I should say, for it is sometimes pretty well covered up."
"There are some eyes whose sparkling is nothing more than the play of light upon a bright bead of glass."