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CHAPTER IV.
THE next day Lord Raymond called at Perdita's cottage, on his way to
Windsor Castle. My sister's heightened colour and sparkling eyes half
revealed her secret to me. He was perfectly self-possessed; he accosted us
both with courtesy, seemed immediately to enter into our feelings, and to
make one with us. I scanned his physiognomy, which varied as he spoke, yet
was beautiful in every change. The usual expression of his eyes was soft,
though at times he could make them even glare with ferocity; his complexion
was colourless; and every trait spoke predominate self-will; his smile was
pleasing, though disdain too often curled his lips--lips which to female
eyes were the very throne of beauty and love. His voice, usually gentle,
often startled you by a sharp discordant note, which shewed that his usual
low tone was rather the work of study than nature. Thus full of
contradictions, unbending yet haughty, gentle yet fierce, tender and again
neglectful, he by some strange art found easy entrance to the admiration
and affection of women; now caressing and now tyrannizing over them
according to his mood, but in every change a despot.
At the present time Raymond evidently wished to appear amiable. Wit,
hilarity, and deep observation were mingled in his talk, rendering every
sentence that he uttered as a flash of light. He soon conquered my latent
distaste; I endeavoured to watch him and Perdita, and to keep in mind every
thing I had heard to his disadvantage. But all appeared so ingenuous, and
all was so fascinating, that I forgot everything except the pleasure his
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