Duncan paid no attention whatever to the
lad, except, from time to time, to speculate what particular bad end he
would come to.
But I loved Paul, and Paul loved me--and adored Janet.
The boy had one exceedingly beautiful feature in his face: sometimes I
could not take my eyes from it; I used to wonder if it could be that
which made me love him so much--his mouth. I have never seen another
anything like it. The steady, strong, and yet delicate lips--so calm and
serious when still, as to make one feel at rest merely to look at them;
but when in motion extraordinarily sensitive, quivering, curving, and
curling in sympathy with every thought.
I loved both children; but perhaps the reason that made me love Paul
most was--that whilst I knew Janet's nature, out and in, to the core of
her very loving little heart, Paul's often puzzled me.
There was not much in the way of landscape to be seen from that villa in
the suburbs of Glasgow; but we did catch just one glimpse of sky which
was not always obscured by smoke, and I have seen Paul, lost in thought,
looking up at this patch of blue, with an expression on his face--at
once sweet and sorrowful--so strange in one so young, that it made me
instinctively move more quietly, not to disturb him, and set me
wondering.
However, what with one thing and another, I was not by any means
heart-broken when Duncan married again--one of the kindest women in the
world; I can't think what she saw in him--and thus released me.
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