Blind Love
Page 88It was not easy to form a positive opinion of the young woman who now
presented herself in Miss Henley's room.
If the Turkish taste is truly reported as valuing beauty in the female
figure more than beauty in the female face, Fanny Mere's personal
appearance might have found, in Constantinople, the approval which she
failed to receive in London. Slim and well balanced, firmly and neatly
made, she interested men who met her by accident (and sometimes even
women), if they happened to be walking behind her. When they quickened
their steps, and, passing on, looked back at her face, they lost all
interest in Fanny from that moment. Painters would have described the
defect in her face as "want of colour." She was one of the whitest of
expression in them, and a complexion which looked as if it had never
been stirred by a circulation of blood, produced an effect on her
fellow-creatures in general which made them insensible to the beauty of
her figure, and the grace of her movements. There was no betrayal of
bad health in her strange pallor: on the contrary, she suggested the
idea of rare physical strength. Her quietly respectful manner was, so
to say, emphasised by an underlying self-possession, which looked
capable of acting promptly and fearlessly in the critical emergencies
of life. Otherwise, the expression of character in her face was
essentially passive. Here was a steady, resolute young woman, possessed
good qualities or bad qualities experience alone could determine.
Finding it impossible, judging by a first impression, to arrive at any
immediate decision favourable or adverse to the stranger, Iris opened
the interview with her customary frankness; leaving the consequences to
follow as they might.
"Take a seat, Fanny," she said, "and let us try if we can understand
each other. I think you will agree with me that there must be no
concealments between us. You ought to know that your mistress has told
me why she parted with you. It was her duty to tell me the truth, and
it is my duty not to be unjustly prejudiced against you after what I
wish to know, what your temptation may have been--"
"I beg your pardon, Miss, for interrupting you. My temptation was
vanity."
Whether she did or did not suffer in making that confession, it was
impossible to discover. Her tones were quiet; her manner was
unobtrusively respectful; the pallor of her face was not disturbed by
the slightest change of colour. Was the new maid an insensible person?
Iris began to fear already that she might have made a mistake.