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Updated: May 3, 2025
This was no child before them; here stood adorable adolescence, a hint of the awakening in the velvet-brown eyes which were long and slightly slanting at the corners; hints, too, in the vivid lips, in the finer outline of the profile, in faint bluish shadows under the eyes, edging the curved cheeks' bloom. They had not seen her in two years or more, and she had grown up.
You could hardly tell the soldiers from the plainsmen, had you seen them; a sombreroed group, booted to the knees and in their shirt-sleeves; all bore the heavy, fifty-caliber Sharp's single-shot rifles across their saddle-horns. The bare land rolled away and away, dark velvet-brown toward the flushing east. The sky was vivid crimson when they turned their horses up a little knoll.
"You don't look at all like your father." Lynde shook her head. "No, I don't look like Mother either. She was tiny and dark she had a sweet little face and velvet-brown eyes and soft curly dark hair. Oh, I remember her look so well. I wish I did resemble her. I loved her so I would have done anything to save her suffering and trouble. At least, she died in peace."
The little house in winter stood in a network of bare vines; in summer it was smothered in roses, and fuchsias, marguerites, hollyhocks, and geraniums pressed against the fence. Marigolds, alyssum, pansies, and border pinks flourished close to the ground, with sweet William, stock, mignonette, and velvet-brown wallflowers. Dr.
Lionel Hezekiah, whatever his shortcomings, did not look bad. Indeed, he was as engaging an urchin as ever beamed out on a jolly good world through a pair of big, velvet-brown eyes.
She looked straight into the white, subtle face straight into the velvet-brown languorous eyes, full now of a secret fear. "You forget that God protects the innocent and punishes the guilty. I will stay with Hubert; and God will defend my father and the right." "Your father will be hanged yet," said Flossy, turning away restlessly. It was her only answer to the girl's courageous words.
They encountered a plague of butterflies, and for days drove through untold millions of the fluttering beauties that covered the road with uniform velvet-brown.
Happening to look away from the dun smoke-trail for an instant, he found something of greater interest close at hand. An old man stooped stiffly over a simple mound, busied among the flowers that hid it, and by his side crouched a young girl, perhaps fourteen years old, who peered up at Ronald with questioning, velvet-brown eyes.
He shook off her hand as if it had been a noxious reptile of which he desired to rid himself, and rose to his feet. "You must not mind what I say to-day, Florence. I am not well. I I shall see you another time." "Of course you will plenty of times, I hope!" A look of dismay began to show itself in Flossy's velvet-brown eyes. "You are not contemplating any new step, I hope?
As he sat before the fire in the grand salon, the flickering yellow light playing over his features, which had a background of moving, deep velvet-brown shadows, he might have been the theme of some melancholy whim by Rubens, a stanza by Dante. His face was furrowed like a frosty road.
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