Golden-Brown 



possess it; they become brown, red, or tanned, 

 sometimes of a parchment hue they do not get this 

 colour. 



These two women from the fruit gardens had the 

 golden-brown in their faces, and their plain features 

 were transfigured. They were walking in the dusty 

 road; there was as background a high, dusty haw- 

 thorn hedge v/hich had lost the freshness of spring 

 and was browned by the work of caterpillars; they 

 were in rags and jags, their shoes had split, and their 

 feet looked twice as wide in consequence. Their 

 hands were black; not grimy, but absolutely black, 

 and neither hands nor necks ever knew water, I am 

 sure. There was not the least shape to their gar- 

 ments; their dresses simply hung down in straight 

 ungraceful lines; there was no colour of ribbon or 

 flower, to light up the dinginess. But they had the 

 golden-brown in their faces, and they were beautiful. 



The feet, as they walked, were set firm on the 

 ground, and the body advanced with measured, 

 deliberate, yet lazy and confident grace; shoulders 

 thrown back square, but not over-square (as those 

 who have been drilled) ; hips swelling at the side in 

 lines like the full bust, though longer drawn; busts 

 well filled and shapety, despite the rags and jags and 

 the washed-out gaudiness of the shawl. There was 

 that in their cheeks that all the wealth of London 

 could not purchase a superb health in their carriage 

 princesses could not obtain. It came, then, from the 

 air and sunlight, and still more, from some alchemy 

 unknown to the physician or the physiologist, some 

 faculty exercised by the body, happily endowed with 

 a special power of extracting the utmost richness and 

 benefit from the rudest elements. Thrice blessed 

 and fortunate, beautiful golden-brown in their cheeks, 



