So he was now a _divorce',_ and a
declared woman-hater; railed on them, and kept them at arm's-length,
Fanny Dover included. It was really comical to see with what perfect
coolness and cynical apathy he parried the stealthy advances of this
cat-like girl, a mistress in the art of pleasing--when she chose.
Inside the room, on a couch of crimson velvet, sat a young lady of rare
and dazzling beauty. Her face was a long but perfect oval, pure forehead,
straight nose, with exquisite nostrils; coral lips, and ivory teeth. But
what first struck the beholder were her glorious dark eyes, and
magnificent eyebrows as black as jet. Her hair was really like a raven's
dark-purple wing.
These beauties, in a stern character, might have inspired awe; the more
so as her form and limbs were grand and statuesque for her age; but all
was softened down to sweet womanhood by long, silken lashes, often
lowered, and a gracious face that blushed at a word, blushed little,
blushed much, blushed pinky, blushed pink, blushed roseate, blushed rosy;
and, I am sorry to say, blushed crimson, and even scarlet, in the course
of those events I am about to record, as unblushing as turnip, and cool
as cucumber.
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