the sweep to the knot, imposed the triangle of the
fabulous wild woodland visage from brow to mouth and chin, evidently in
agreement with her taste; and the triangle suited her; but her face was not
significant of a tameless wildness or of weakness; her equable shut mouth threw
its long curve to guard the small round chin from that effect; her eyes wavered
only in humour, they were steady when thoughtfulness was awakened; and at such
seasons the build of her winter-beechwood hair lost the touch of nymph-like and
whimsical, and strangely, by mere outline, added to her appearance of studious
concentration. Observe the hawk on stretched wings over the prey he spies, for
an idea of this change in the look of a young lady whom Vernon Whitford could
liken to the Mountain Echo, and Mrs. Mountstuart Jenkinson pronounced to be »a
dainty rogue in porcelain.«
    Vernon's fancy of her must have sprung from her prompt and most musical
responsiveness. He preferred the society of her learned father to that of a girl
under twenty engaged to his cousin, but the charm of her ready tongue and her
voice was to his intelligent understanding wit, natural wit, crystal wit, as
opposed to the paste-sparkle of the wit of the town. In his encomiums he did not
quote Miss Middleton's wit; nevertheless he ventured to speak of it to Mrs.
Mountstuart, causing that lady to say: »Ah, well, I have not noticed the wit.
You may have the art of drawing it out.«
    No one had noticed the wit. The corrupted hearing of people required a
collision of sounds, Vernon supposed. For his part, to prove their excellence,
he recollected a great many of Miss Middleton's remarks; they came flying to
him; and as long as he forbore to speak them aloud, they had a curious wealth of
meaning. It could not be all her manner, however much his own manner might spoil
them. It might be, to a certain degree, her quickness at catching the hue and
shade of evanescent conversation. Possibly by remembering the whole of a
conversation wherein she had her place, the wit was to be tested; only how could
any one retain the heavy portion? As there was no use in being argumentative on
a subject affording him personally, and apparently solitarily, refreshment and
enjoyment, Vernon resolved to keep it to himself. The eulogies of her beauty, a
possession in which he did not consider her so very conspicuous, irritated him
in consequence. To flatter Sir Willoughby, it was the fashion to exalt