And Martha's glance, in modest overwhelming of modesty by what she
saw, dropped down the splendid breast of her and generously true
lines of body to the feet, silken clad, high-heeled-slippered,
small, plump, with an almost Spanish arch and faultlessness of
instep.
"When one is young, the one young time!" Bella laughed. "Lilolilo
was a prince. I came to know his every feature and their every
phase . . . afterward, in our wonder days and nights by the singing
waters, by the slumber-drowsy surfs, and on the mountain ways. I
knew his fine, brave eyes, with their straight, black brows, the
nose of him that was assuredly a Kamehameha nose, and the last,
least, lovable curve of his mouth. There is no mouth more
beautiful than the Hawaiian, Martha.
"And his body. He was a king of athletes, from his wicked, wayward
hair to his ankles of bronzed steel. Just the other day I heard
one of the Wilder grandsons referred to as 'The Prince of Harvard.'
Mercy! What would they, what could they have called my Lilolilo
could they have matched him against this Wilder lad and all his
team at Harvard!"
Bella ceased and breathed deeply, the while she clasped her fine
small hands in her ample silken lap.
Pages:
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58