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Mannering taken a
year before the birth of the twins--an event which had cost the
mother her life--Desmond resembled her rather than his father. In
both faces there was the same smiling youthfulness, combined--as
indeed also in Pamela--with something that entirely banished any
suggestion of insipidity--something that seemed to say, 'There is a
soul here--and a brain.' It had sometimes occurred, in a dreamy way
to Pamela, to connect that smile on her mother's face with a line in
a poem of Browning's, which she had learnt for recitation at
school:
This grew; I gave commands;
Then all smiles stopped together.
Had her mother been happy? That her children could never know.
Desmond's countenance, however, soon cleared. It was impossible for
him to frown for long on any subject. He was very sorry for 'old
Pam.' His father's opinions and behaviour were too queer for words.
He would be jolly worried if he had to stay long at home, like
Pamela. But then he wasn't going to be long at home.


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