Standing in the crepuscular light of the corner , her marvellous beauty shone out with the vivid richness of some rare painting . She was tall , and the magnificent proportions of her figure were enhanced rather than marred by the severely plain dress of dark print that she wore . The heavy masses of her hair , a shining auburn dashed with golden foam , were coiled in a rich , glossy knot at the back of the classically modelled head and rippled back from a low brow whose waxen fairness even the breezes of the ocean had spared . The girl 's face was a full , perfect oval , with features of faultless regularity , and the large , full eyes were of tawny hazel , darkened into inscrutable gloom in the dimness of the corner . Not even Marian Lesley 's face was more delicately tinted , but not a trace of colour appeared in the smooth , marble-like cheeks ; yet the waxen pallor bore no trace of disease or weakness , and the large , curving mouth was of an intense crimson . She stood quite motionless . There was no trace of embarrassment or self-consciousness in her pose . When Mrs. Barrett said , `` This is my niece , Magdalen Crawford , '' she merely inclined her head in grave , silent acknowledgement . As she moved forward to take Marian 's basket , she seemed oddly out of place in the low , crowded room . Her presence seemed to throw a strange restraint over the group . Marian rose and went over to the cot , laying her slender hand on the hot forehead of the little sufferer . The child opened its brown eyes questioningly . `` How are you today , Bessie ? '' `` Mad ` len -- I want Mad ` len , '' moaned the little plaintive voice . Magdalen came over and stood beside Marian Lesley . `` She wants me , '' she said in a low , thrilling voice ; free from all harsh accent or intonation . `` I am the only one she seems to know always . Yes , darling , Mad ` len is here -- right beside you . She will not leave you . '' She knelt by the little cot and passed her arm under the child 's neck , drawing the curly head close to her throat with a tender , soothing motion .
Esterbrook Elliott watched the two women intently -- the one standing by the cot , arrayed in simple yet costly apparel , with her beautiful , high-bred face , and the other , kneeling on the bare , sanded floor in her print dress , XXXXX her splendid head bent low over the child and the long fringe of burnished lashes sweeping the cold pallor of the oval cheek .
As at beside by from of over to under with