A fine woman is my
abhorrence. It always seems to me to rank in the same category with
a prime turkey or a prize bullock, or something ready for the
market."
"My dear Betty, you do say such odd things!"
"Of course I do. Elizabeth is nothing if she is not original. Don't
you remember dear old dad's speech? But I am really serious, Die--
you know I never coveted beauty."
"No, nor I, dear," and Dinah spoke quite earnestly.
"Oh, you," returned Elizabeth with playful tenderness. "I should
hope not. I expect many women would be glad to change with you, you
sweet thing." Then Dinah smiled and patted her sister's hand.
"No, Betty, you must not say that. I have often thought that even
our poor faces, with all their defects, ought to be sacred to us. If
we are a thought of God, as some one has beautifully put it, surely
the stamp of His handiwork must be precious to us."
"But how about the marred and ugly faces, Die?" and Elizabeth looked
at her dubiously.
"It is their cross," returned Dinah simply--"a heavy cross perhaps,
but when I see a very plain, unattractive woman I do so long to
whisper in her ear--"
"Don't trouble about it, poor thing.
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