She was not beautiful--not then.
She was much too sharp featured; the little pointed chin protruding
into space to quite a dangerous extent. Her large dark eyes were
her one redeeming feature. But the level brows above them were much
too ready with their frown. A sallow complexion and nondescript
hair deprived her of that charm of colouring on which youth can
generally depend for attraction, whatever its faults of form. Nor
could it truthfully be said that sweetness of disposition afforded
compensation.
"A self-willed, cantankerous little imp I call her," was Mrs.
Travers's comment, expressed after one of the many trials of
strength between them, from which Miss Kavanagh had as usual emerged
triumphant.
"It's her father," explained Abner Herrick, feeling himself unable
to contradict.
"It's unfortunate," answered Mrs. Travers, "whatever it is."
To Uncle Ab himself, as she had come to call him, she could on
occasion be yielding and affectionate; but that, as Mrs. Travers
took care to point out to her, was a small thing to her credit.
"If you had the instincts of an ordinary Christian child," explained
Mrs. Travers to her, "you'd be thinking twenty-four hours a day of
what you could do to repay him for all his loving kindness to you;
instead of causing him, as you know you do, a dozen heartaches in a
week.
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