Marie, when the interview was over, walked about the room almost in dismay. It was borne in upon her by degrees that Sir Felix Carbury was not at all points quite as nice as she had thought him. Of his beauty there was no doubt; but then she could trust him for no other good quality. Why did he not come to her? Why did he not show some pluck? Why did he not tell her the truth? She had quite believed Lord Nidderdale when he said that he knew the cause that had kept Sir Felix from going to Liverpool. And she had believed him, too, when he said that it was not his business to tell her. But the reason, let it be what it might, must, if known, be prejudicial to her love. Lord Nidderdale was, she thought, not at all beautiful. He had a common-place, rough face, with a turn-up nose, high cheek bones, no especial complexion, sandy-coloured whiskers, and bright laughing eyes,--not at all an Adonis such as her imagination had painted. But if he had only made love at first as he had attempted to do it now, she thought that she would have submitted herself to be cut in pieces for him.
Marie, after this interview, walked about the room almost in dismay. It was borne in upon her that Sir Felix Carbury was not as nice as she had thought him. Of his beauty there was no doubt; but she could have trust in no other good quality. Why did he not come to her? Why did he not show some pluck? Why did he not tell her the truth? Lord Nidderdale was, she thought, not at all beautiful. He had a commonplace, rough face, with a turned-up nose, high cheek bones, sandy-coloured whiskers, and bright laughing eyes - not at all an Adonis. But if he had only made love at first as he had attempted to do it now, she thought that she would have allowed herself to be cut in pieces for him.