Shirley stood behind the rectors, leaning over their shoulders now and then to glance at the rules drawn up and the list of cases making out, listening to all they said, and still at intervals smiling her queer smile--a smile not ill-natured, but significant--too significant to be generally thought amiable. Men rarely like such of their fellows as read their inward nature too clearly and truly. It is good for women, especially, to be endowed with a soft blindness; to have mild, dim eyes, that never penetrate below the surface of things--that take all for what it seems. Thousands, knowing this, keep their eyelids drooped on system; but the most downcast glance has its loophole, through which it can, on occasion, take its sentinel-survey of life. I remember once seeing a pair of blue eyes, that were usually thought sleepy, secretly on the alert, and I knew by their expression--an expression which chilled my blood, it was in that quarter so wondrously unexpected--that for years they had been accustomed to silent soul-reading. The world called the owner of these blue eyes _bonne petite femme_ (she was not an Englishwoman). I learned her nature afterwards--got it off by heart--studied it in its farthest, most hidden recesses. She was the finest, deepest, subtlest schemer in Europe.

Shirley stood behind the rectors, leaning over their shoulders now and then to glance at the rules drawn up and the list of cases, listening, and at intervals smiling her queer smile - a smile not ill-natured, but significant. Men rarely like people who read their inward nature too clearly. It is good for women, especially, to have mild, dim eyes, that never penetrate below the surface of things. Thousands, knowing this, keep their eyelids drooped; but the most downcast glance can, on occasion, take its survey of life.
