It was a neighborly service, freely asked and willingly
rendered.
As Farnham entered the widow's cosey library, he saw a lady sitting by
the fire whom he took to be Mrs. Belding; but as she rose and made a
step toward him, he discovered that she was not in mourning. The quick
twilight was thickening into night, and the rich glow of the naming
coal in the grate, deepening the shadows in the room, while it
prevented him from distinguishing the features of her face, showed him
a large full form with a grace of movement which had something even of
majesty in it.
"I see you have forgotten me," said a voice as rich and full as the
form from which it came. "I am Alice Belding."
"Of course you are, and you have grown as big and beautiful as you
threatened to," said Farnham, taking both the young girl's hands in
his, and turning until she faced the fire-light. It was certainly a
bonny face which the red light shone upon, and quite uncommon in its
beauty. The outline was very pure and noble; the eyes were dark-brown
and the hair was of tawny gold, but the complexion was of that clear
and healthy pallor so rarely met with among blonde women.
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