It was pleasant to sit there and see the sleighs pass and hear
the bells jingle; it was pleasant to look over towards the church and the
parsonage; and pleasantest of all to bring her eyes into Miss Prudence's
face and work basket and the work in her lap for Prue.
"But I mean--faces," acknowledged Marjorie. "I mean faces--too. I don't
see why, of all the beautiful things God has made, faces should be
ignored. The human face, with the love of God in it, is more glorious
than any painting, more glorious than any view of mountain, lake, or
river."
"I don't believe I know what beauty is."
"You know what you think it is."
"Yes; Prue is beautiful to me, and you are, and Linnet, and mother,--you
see how confused I am. The girls think so much of it. One of them hurts
her feet with three and a half shoes when she ought to wear larger. And
another laces so tight! And another thinks so much of being slight and
slender that she will not dress warmly enough in the street; she always
looks cold and she has a cough, too. And another said she would rather
have tubercles on her lungs than sores on her face! We had a talk about
personal beauty yesterday and one girl said she would rather have it than
anything else in the world. But _do_ you think so much depends upon
beauty?"
"How much?"
"Why, ever so much? Friends, and being loved, and marriage."
"Did you ever see a homely girl with plenty of friends? And are wives
always beautiful?"
"Why, no.
Pages:
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314