Her complexion was mellowed into a paleness, which certainly took
from her beauty; but agreed, at least Harley used to say so, with
the pensive softness of her mind. Her eyes were of that gentle
hazel colour which is rather mild than piercing; and, except when
they were lighted up by good-humour, which was frequently the case,
were supposed by the fine gentlemen to want fire. Her air and
manner were elegant in the highest degree, and were as sure of
commanding respect as their mistress was far from demanding it. Her
voice was inexpressibly soft; it was, according to that incomparable
simile of Otway's,
- "like the shepherd's pipe upon the mountains,
When all his little flock's at feed before him."
The effect it had upon Harley, himself used to paint ridiculously
enough; and ascribed it to powers, which few believed, and nobody
cared for.
Her conversation was always cheerful, but rarely witty; and without
the smallest affectation of learning, had as much sentiment in it as
would have puzzled a Turk, upon his principles of female
materialism, to account for. Her beneficence was unbounded; indeed
the natural tenderness of her heart might have been argued, by the
frigidity of a casuist, as detracting from her virtue in this
respect, for her humanity was a feeling, not a principle: but minds
like Harley's are not very apt to make this distinction, and
generally give our virtue credit for all that benevolence which is
instinctive in our nature.
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