I found a young woman there, who asked me if she could see you.
She thinks you have forgotten her, and she is tired of waiting. I
merely undertook, of course, to mention what she had said to me."

The nurse having been in this way recalled to my memory, I felt
some little interest in seeing her, after what had passed in
the cell. In plainer words, I was desirous of judging for myself
whether she deserved the hostile feeling which the Prisoner had
shown toward her. I thanked the Chaplain before he left me, and
gave the servant the necessary instructions. When she entered
the room, I looked at the woman attentively for the first time.

Youth and a fine complexion, a well-made figure and a natural
grace of movement--these were her personal attractions, so far
as I could see. Her defects were, to my mind, equally noticeable.
Under a heavy forehead, her piercing eyes looked out at persons
and things with an expression which was not to my taste.
Her large mouth--another defect, in my opinion--would have
been recommended to mercy, in the estimation of many men, by
her magnificent teeth; white, well-shaped, cruelly regular.
Believers in physiognomy might perhaps have seen the betrayal
of an obstinate nature in the lengthy firmness of her chin.
While I am trying to describe her, let me not forget her dress.
A woman's dress is the mirror in which we may see the reflection
of a woman's nature. Bearing in mind the melancholy and
impressive circumstances under which she had brought the child
to the prison, the gayety of color in her gown and her bonnet
implied either a total want of feeling, or a total want of tact.
As to her position in life, let me confess that I felt, after
a closer examination, at a loss to determine it. She was