I could hear the voice that, speaking to me, was always tender with pity — yet not pity enough to wound: I could see the peculiar smile just creeping… - Dinah Maria Mulock Craik

" "

I could hear the voice that, speaking to me, was always tender with pity — yet not pity enough to wound: I could see the peculiar smile just creeping round his grave mouth — that irrepressible smile, indicating the atmosphere of thorough heart-cheerfulness, which ripens all the fruits of a noble nature, and without which the very noblest has about it something unwholesome, blank, and cold.