Henry & Lydia Kinne, 1920

She had an old-fashioned face …
One that stared back into the dawn of time,
Whose eyes read the mysteries of the past.
Her smile was lit by understanding of
Cultures and lores a-byegone – fables and tales passed down from generation to generation.
The music of each century danced within her heart …
Connecting her to ancestors who still breathed on through her.
She was a girl whose face might have fit into a sepia daguerrotype – mouth set and serious, but eyes dancing as though a smile lurked just around the corner.
Old-fashioned morals and courtly values clung to the core of her heart … the simple ways of the past and polite chivalry of old still beckoned to her.
She seemed as though she could lightly step back one century or two – a ballgown silhouetting her frame … buttoned shoes and laced stays cloaking her with ease. Needlework or churning butter would be a task not uncommon to her … her feet might dance in a Pemberley ballroom or alight from a carriage drawn by horses on the arm of a dashing gentleman …
The dreams of centuries long ago were bound up within her, and she could almost taste the beauty and romance of them, they were so close to her. And though she knew that time-travel was impossible … she knew that within her – deep inside her heart – she would always remain “an old-fashioned girl.”