The two little
girls, walking on either side of her, were dressed in silk. Magdalen
instinctively hated them.
She made a wide circuit on the grass, so as to turn gradually and meet
her sister without exciting suspicion that the meeting was contrived.
Her heart beat fast; a burning heat glowed in her as she thought of her
false hair, her false color, her false dress, and saw the dear familiar
face coming nearer and nearer. They passed each other close. Norah's
dark gentle eyes looked up, with a deeper light in them, with a sadder
beauty than of old--rested, all unconscious of the truth, on her
sister's face--and looked away from it again as from the face of a
stranger. That glance of an instant struck Magdalen to the heart. She
stood rooted to the ground after Norah had passed by. A horror of the
vile disguise that concealed her; a yearning to burst its trammels and
hide her shameful painted face on Norah's bosom, took possession of her,
body and soul. She turned and looked back.
Norah and the two children had reached the higher ground, and were close
to one of the gates in the iron railing which fenced the Park from the
street. Drawn by an irresistible fascination, Magdalen followed them
again, gained on them as they reached the gate, and heard the voices of
the two children raised in angry dispute which way they wanted to walk
next.
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