I was at one time intimate with a couple who were noticeably plain
and angular in appearance. He, from ill-health, had an irritable
disposition. She was easily excited. But they were truly mated, and
whatever of these peculiarities appeared in society, they disappeared
before the door-step of the home was reached. A perfect confidence
existed between them, and the unvarying respect and courtesy shown by
the husband toward his wife did honor to them both.
It was a late marriage, and one daughter alone came to bless them. A
child lovely from her birth, bearing scarce any resemblance to either
parent. A delicate, oval face, creamy complexion, soft, intelligent
black eyes, a sweet mouth, and a shower of golden curls; not an angle
about her, simply a beauty from babyhood to womanhood.
“You think it unaccountable,” said the father to me, “that my wife and
I, who are both so plain, should have so pretty a child as Daisy. But I
have studied it out, and I settle it this way. My great-grandmother was
a famous beauty and a noted belle in her day, and it is _her_ features
that have cropped out in Daisy.”
“And let me tell you,” I answered, with equally impressive gesture of
the forefinger. “Let me tell you that both of your great-grandmothers
might have been as handsome as the Venus de Medici and the Venus of
Milo in one, but if you had not bestowed the most chivalrous attention
on your excellent wife while she was bearing Daisy--if you had not
made her so thoroughly happy by your loving words and thoughtful care,
there would have been no cropping out of beauty in the little daughter.
Sweet and lovely thoughts resolve themselves into symmetry of form and
face. Mental and physical traits do undoubtedly reappear in the same
family after a longer or shorter period, but never without the right
conditions for their re-incarnation. You may take at least half the
credit of Daisy’s good looks to yourself, and the other half belongs to
her good mother.”