reminded the hearer, as before remarked, of Caleb Garth's description of Dorothea Brooke:
"She speaks in such plain words, and a voice like music. Bless me, it reminds me of bits in the 'Messiah!'—'and straightway there appeared a multitude of the heavenly host, praising God and saying;' it has a tone with it which satisfies your ear."
George Eliot's features, as is well known, remained to the last imposing rather than pleasing, bearing a striking resemblance to those of Savonarola. But she retained her abundant hair, and her clear, expressive grey eyes, and her face continued to lighten up so beautifully when she smiled or became interested, that no one who knew her well could think of her as plain. Her head, although very massive, did seem out of proportion to her small and fragile figure. She wore, as her American visitor reports, a high-bodied black velvet dress, with rich lace in the neck and sleeves. At her throat was a fine cameo set in pearls. Her hair was brought low upon her forehead and around her ears, and coiled at the back; and a square of lace, matching that in her dress, was pinned lightly upon the top of her head.
Her reception room was both home-like and elegant. Over the piano hung a fine engraving of Guido's Aurora, water-color paintings of bright flowers adorned the corners of the wall, and small tables standing upon soft Persian rugs supported vases filled with flowers, easel pictures, and small casts of antique statues. Books were everywhere.
This is surely a pleasant picture of her winter home. Her summers were passed sometimes in visiting the continent, and later at Witley, among the lovely hills of Surrey.
Her married life was one of great happiness. Miss Blind tells us that "it seemed to those who saw them
