Page:Authors daughter v1.djvu/14

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plain straw hat, dusty with the long journey from Adelaide, even Tom Cross had seen that she was a little lady, and Allan had still more observation. He could not call her pretty; she was too pale and thin, and angular for beauty at this particular time, but she gave promise of being very lovely ere long. The face was expressive, her eyes perhaps too large at present, but dark and full of varied light; her head was beautifully set on her shoulders, and her feet and hands finely formed. Her fine accent, or rather the absence of any provincial accent, contrasted with Allan's Scotch, and Tom's Midland English; and they both felt that, whatever might be her circumstances, their unhappy fellow-traveller was something quite out of the common.

"When you get home will your mother try to make papa speak? Oh! papa, will you not speak to your own poor Amy?" and the girl kissed the lifeless face, and now for the first time she was aware of the chill that had come over it, and the horrible thought pressed itself on her that he was dead. Allan saw by the expression on her face that she now apprehended the truth, though she was too much horrified to speak of it. He endeavoured to soothe her as if she had been his own sister; he patted her gently on the back, saying—"Poor dear! poor dear! it is the will of