"It was a far less
important personage. It was my servant, Jake. And it was God who made
him black, just for the sake of variety, you know. It would be rather
monotonous to have everybody as white as you and me."
She attempted to smile, feeling that it was expected of her; but the
result was hardly proportionate to the effort. Her features were not
of that type which lends itself easily to disguises. A simple maidenly
soul, if the whole infinite variety of human masks had been at its
disposal, would have chosen just such a countenance as this as its
complete expression. There was nothing striking in it, unless an
entirely faultless combination of softly curving lines and fresh
flesh-tints be rare enough to merit that appellation; nor would any
one but a cynic have called it a commonplace face, for the absolute
sweetness and purity which these simple lines and tints expressed
appealed directly to that part of one's nature where no harsh
adjectives dwell. It was a feeling of this kind which suddenly
checked Fern in the scientific meditation he was about to indulge, and
spoiled the profound but uncharitable result at which he had already
half arrived. A young man who could extract scientific information
from the features of a beautiful girl could hardly be called human;
and our hero with all his enthusiasm for abstract things, was as yet
not exalted above the laws which govern his species.
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