Moore listened at first with his eyes cast down, but soon he furtively raised them. Leaning back in his chair he could watch Caroline without her perceiving where his gaze was fixed. Her cheek had a colour, her eyes a light, her countenance an expression this evening which would have made even plain features striking; but there was not the grievous defect of plainness to pardon in her case. The sunshine was not shed on rough barrenness; it fell on soft bloom. Each lineament was turned with grace; the whole aspect was pleasing. At the present moment--animated, interested, touched--she might be called beautiful. Such a face was calculated to awaken not only the calm sentiment of esteem, the distant one of admiration, but some feeling more tender, genial, intimate--friendship, perhaps, affection, interest. When she had finished, she turned to Moore, and met his eye.
"Is that pretty well repeated?" she inquired, smiling like any happy, docile child.

Moore listened at first with his eyes cast down, but soon he raised them. Leaning back in his chair he could watch Caroline without her noticing. Her eyes had an animating light this evening: at the present moment, she might be called beautiful. When she had finished, she turned to Moore.
"Is that pretty well repeated?" she inquired, smiling like a happy child.
