Estella , catching a glimpse of herself in the old-fashioned mirror above the mantel , suddenly felt a cold chill of dissatisfaction . Her figure had never seemed to her so stout and stiff , her brown hair so dull and prim , her complexion so muddy , her features so commonplace . She wished Miss LeMar would go out of the room . Vivienne LeMar watched the two faces before her ; a hard gleam , half mockery , half malice , flashed into her eyes and a smile crept about her lips . She looked straight in Spencer Morgan 's honest blue eyes and read there the young man 's dazzled admiration . There was contempt in the look she turned on Estella . `` You were singing when we came in , '' said Spencer . `` Wo n't you go on , please ? I am very fond of music . '' Miss LeMar turned again to the organ . The gleaming curves of her neck and shoulders rose out of their filmy sheathings of lace . Spencer , sitting where he could see her face with its rose-leaf bloom and the ringlets of golden hair clustering about it , gazed at her , unheeding of aught else . Estella saw his look . She suddenly began to hate the black-eyed witch at the organ -- and to fear her as well . Why did Spencer look at her like that ? She wished she had not brought him in at all . She felt commonplace and angry , and wanted to cry . Vivienne LeMar went on singing , drifting from one sweet love song into another . Once she looked up at Spencer Morgan . He rose quickly and went to her side , looking down at her with a strange fire in his eyes .
XXXXX got up abruptly and left the room .
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