‘As thin as Lady Maria?’
‘Good gracious, no!’ exclaimed Crauford.
‘And what is her hair like, dark or fair?’
‘Rather dark, but not black.’
‘And her eyes?’
‘Remarkable eyes—in fact, rather too extraordinary. Not quite usual.’
‘She does not squint?’ cried Agneta, seized with horror.
‘Should I wish for a wife who squinted?’ asked he, rather huffily.
‘No, no, of course not; don’t be angry, Crauford. Why do you not like her eyes?’
‘Oh, I do like them; only I wish they were more like other people’s, wider open and bluer; you will see her for yourself, Agneta. There was another man who wanted to marry her not long ago, a sulky-looking fellow called Speid; but she soon sent him away and he has gone off to Spain.’