A sad countenance may render a heroine of romance attractive in a
book, but in real life there is no charm at once so rare and so
fascinating as happiness. Did you ever think how few faces of the
grown up, however young, are really happy in expression? Discontent,
restlessness, longing, unsatisfied ambition or ill health mar ninety
and nine of every hundred faces we meet in the daily walks of life.
When we look upon a countenance which sparkles with health and
absolute joy in life, we turn and look again and yet again, charmed
and fascinated, though we do not know why.
It was such a face that Joy Irving, the new organist of St Blank's
Church, flashed upon the people who had lingered near the door to see
her pass out. Among those who lingered was the Baroness; and all day
she carried about with her the memory of that sparkling countenance;
and strive as she would, she could not drive away a vague, strange
uneasiness which the sight of that face had caused her.
Yet a vision of youth and beauty always made the Baroness unhappy,
now that both blessings were irrevocably lost to her.
This particular young face, however, stirred her with those half-
painful, half-pleasurable emotions which certain perfumes awake in
us--vague reminders of joys lost or unattained, of dreams broken or
unrealised.
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