Something seemed to shine out of Hudson's face
as a warning against a "compliment" of the idle, unpondered sort.
"Your statuette seems to me very good," Rowland said gravely. "It has
given me extreme pleasure."
"And my cousin knows what is good," said Cecilia. "He 's a connoisseur."
Hudson smiled and stared. "A connoisseur?" he cried, laughing. "He 's
the first I 've ever seen! Let me see what they look like;" and he drew
Rowland nearer to the light. "Have they all such good heads as that? I
should like to model yours."
"Pray do," said Cecilia. "It will keep him a while. He is running off to
Europe."
"Ah, to Europe!" Hudson exclaimed with a melancholy cadence, as they sat
down. "Happy man!"
But the note seemed to Rowland to be struck rather at random, for he
perceived no echo of it in the boyish garrulity of his later talk.
Hudson was a tall, slender young fellow, with a singularly mobile and
intelligent face. Rowland was struck at first only with its responsive
vivacity, but in a short time he perceived it was remarkably handsome.
The features were admirably chiseled and finished, and a frank smile
played over them as gracefully as a breeze among flowers.
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