"Maybe times will
change, and nobody will have to wear lines."
"Times have changed like that for only one person that I know," Eugene
said. And as Isabel looked inquiring, he laughed, and she saw that
she was the "only one person." His implication was justified,
moreover, and she knew it. She blushed charmingly.
"Which is it puts the lines on the faces?" Amberson asked. "Is it
age or trouble? Of course we can't decide that wisdom does it--we
must be polite to Isabel."
"I'll tell you what puts the lines there," Eugene said. "Age puts
some, and trouble puts some, and work puts some, but the deepest are
carved by lack of faith. The serenest brow is the one that believes
the most."
"In what?" Isabel asked gently.
"In everything!"
She looked at him inquiringly, and he laughed as he had a moment
before, when she looked at him that way. "Oh, yes, you do!" he said.
She continued to look at him inquiringly a moment or two longer, and
there was an unconscious earnestness in her glance, something trustful
as well as inquiring, as if she knew that whatever he meant it was all
right.
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