"
"Ah, you are slandering yourself," exclaimed Hardenberg, smiling.
"You have no ugly face."
She hastened to the looking-glass, and gazed on herself with
searching glances. "Yes," she said, "I am really ugly. My mouth is
too large, my lips too full, my face is angular and by no means
prepossessing, my nose is vulgar, my forehead too low and too wide,
these bushy eyebrows become rather a grenadier than a young lady,
and these large black eyes look like a couple of sentinels, which,
with sharp glances, have to watch the rabble of nose, mouth, ear,
and cheek, lest one should try to escape from disgust at the
ugliness of the others. But I do not regret my want of beauty, for
it is uncommon and piquant, and I can imagine that a gifted, eminent
man, who is tired of the pretty faces of so-called virtuous women,
may feel attracted by my ugliness. Beauty at least always becomes
tiresome, for it treats you at once to all that it is and has, but
ugliness excites your curiosity more and more from day to day, for,
at certain moments, it may be transformed into beauty!"
"Your own case shows that," said Hardenberg, "for, although you call
yourself ugly, there is a fascinating beauty in your whole
appearance."
She gazed on him with a long and radiant look. "You are a great man,
a genius, and you are, therefore, able to understand me.
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