This page has been proofread, but needs to be validated.
ETHEL CHURCHILL.
169

height and proportion went; but his movements wanted ease, and, consequently, grace; and there was something of self-importance in his air—the last thing in the world to prepossess a beholder in his favour. We may admit the superiority of another, but we very much object to their assuming it as an undeniable fact. His features were high and good, with a strongly marked aquiline nose; but the mouth neither gave sweetness, nor the eye light, to his face. His eyes were of a cold dim blue, that never seemed to vary; they were unfamiliar with tears, and the pupil never brightened with laughter. His lips were thin, and, when they did smile, it was stiff, and made up like the embroidery on his coat. His dress was splendid; his hands glittered with rings, his snuff-box was covered with diamonds, and his ruffles were of the finest Mechlin lace. The only fault was the want of harmony in colouring; the one hue destroyed the effect of the other. I am persuaded, that where there is no eye for colours,