Her eyes were of a tender, luminous
grey, full of candour and goodness. Her hair was a deep, glossy brown;
her face was oval, and her nose a delicate aquiline. On ordinary
occasions she had little or no colour, yet no one could have taken the
clear pallor of her cheek as a token of ill-health; it seemed rather a
result of the depth and earnestness of the life within her.
In her wardrobe there was a lack of things fashionable, and as she sat
at dinner this evening she had on a dress of black alpaca, made after a
very quiet and nun-like style; with a thin streak of snow-white collar
and cuff round throat and wrist; but without any ornament save a
necklace of bog-oak, cut after an antique pattern, and a tiny gold
locket in which was a photographic likeness of Sister Agnes.
That was a very pleasant little dinner-party. In the course of
conversation it came out that, a few days previously, Captain George had
been decorated with the Victoria Cross. Janet's heart thrilled within
her as the Major told in simple, unexaggerated terms of the special deed
of heroism by which the great distinction had been won.
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