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Up to this time none of them had thought of her but as a sister; and Harry, with whom she was a great favourite, used to call her his "dark sister," while the younger, Mary, was known as the "fair" one in the midst of the group stood the little brunette, like the rest, overwhelmed with singular emotions, but calmer, and apparently more mistress of her feelings, than any of them.
He was clean-shaven, except for those frustrated whiskers once sacred to stage butlers, but latterly adopted as the sigil of the New Bohemia. He had pleasing dark brown hair, and if nature had not determined otherwise, might have been counted a handsome brunette. His morning-dress was worthy of Vesta Tilley's tailor. Paul detected the secretary even before the new arrival proclaimed his office.
Frank Sullivan flung away his cigar, and began buttoning up his gloves. "I'll take that damsel out immediately," said he. "A girl who objects to dance with her brother deserves encouragement." So away he went with his hat inclining jauntily on one side, and, having obtained the mother's permission, whirled away with the pretty brunette into the very thickest of the throng.
She had no brilliancy of complexion, no pearly whiteness, no vivid carnation; nor, indeed, did she possess the dark brilliance of a brunette. But there was a speaking earnestness in her face; an expression of mental faculty which the squire now for the first time perceived to be charming. And then he knew how good she was.
Their mother was a medium-sized brunette of 19, and had one previous child then living at the age of two; their father was a finely formed man 5 feet 10 inches in height. The twins differed in complexion and color of the eyes and hair. They were publicly exhibited for some time, and died February 19 and 20, 1891, at St.
Miss Arden?" Mrs. Dexter seemed curious. "What is her appearance?" "Tall, with a very graceful figure. Complexion dark enough to make her pass for a brunette. Large black eyes and raven hair." "In company with her mother?" said Mrs. Dexter. "Yes." "I remember her now. She was quite the belle at Saratoga. But I was not so fortunate as to make her acquaintance. She sings wonderfully.
He hasn't the temperament to sit in on deep emotional scenes, Piddie. As for Old Hickory, he clips the end off a six-inch brunette cigar, lights up careful, and then turns slow to Vincent. "Well, young man," says he, "so you did know about that motion to pass the dividend, after all, eh!" Vincent nods, his head still down. "Took a look at the letter book, did you!" asks Old Hickory.
We descended to dinner. "He carries weight, he rides a race, 'Tis for a thousand pound." "There is Flora Billingsgate, the greatest coquette and hardest rider in the country," said my companion, Ralph Mortmain, as we stood upon Dingleby Common before the meet. I looked up and beheld Guy Heavystone bending haughtily over the saddle, as he addressed a beautiful brunette.
And with them quiz committees so thick, it's apt to be ticklish work. Anyway, Old Hickory has chewed up four brunette cigars the size of young baseball bats, two of the Board have threatened to resign, and a hurry call has just been sent out for our chief counsel to report, when Mr. Robert glances annoyed towards the door.
I waited until they were a few paces ahead, and then followed them slowly, chewing the cud of bitter reflection. Could it be that I was losing my skill in reading and judging faces I, upon whom the men of our force relied for a rapid, and usually correct, guess at a strange face? Was I mistaken in this little brunette, then? Or had I been mistaken in my judgment of Miss Jenrys? No, never!
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