my hand, however, in token of amity—and I never yet knew the dog who was proof against such an appeal to his courtesy. He not only shut his mouth and wagged his tail, but absolutely offered me his paw—afterward extending his civilities to Ponto.
As no bell was discernible, I rapped with my stick against the door, which stood half open. Instantly a figure advanced to the threshold—that of a young woman about twenty-eight years of age—slender, or rather slight, and somewhat above the medium height. As she approached, with a certain modest decision of step altogether indescribable. I said to myself, “Surely here I have found the perfection of natural, in contradistinction from artificial grace .” The second impression which she made on me, but by far the more vivid of the two, was that of enthusiasm . So intense an expression of romance , perhaps I should call it, or of unworldliness, as that which gleamed from her deep-set eyes, had never so sunk into my heart of hearts before. I know not how it is, but this peculiar expression of the eye, wreathing itself occasionally into the lips, is the most powerful, if not absolutely the sole spell, which rivets my interest in woman. “ Romance ,” provided my readers fully comprehended what I would here imply by the word—“romance” and “womanliness” seem to me convertible terms: and, after all, what man truly loves in woman, is simply her womanhood . The eyes of Annie (I heard someone from the interior call her “Annie, darling!”) were “spiritual grey;” her hair, a light chestnut: this is all I had time to observe of her.
At her most courteous of invitations, I entered—passing first into a tolerably wide vestibule. Having come mainly to observe , I took notice that to my right as I stepped in, was a window, such as those in front of the house; to the left, a door leading into the principal room; while, opposite me, an open door enabled me to see a small apartment, just the size of the vestibule, arranged as a study, and having a large bow window looking out to the north.