--a little thin, perhaps, but by no means emaciated--with just and
elegant proportions, and naturally light and flexible. But that same
unfortunate pensiveness gave the whole a character of inertness and
languor; and when Miss Jemima reclined on the sofa, so complete seemed
the relaxation of nerve and muscle, that you would have thought she had
lost the use of her limbs. Over her face and form, thus defrauded of the
charms Providence had bestowed on them, Dr. Riccabocca's eye glanced
rapidly; and then moving nearer to Mrs. Dale--"Defend me" (he stopped a
moment, and added), "from the charge of not being able to appreciate
congenial companionship."

"Oh, I did not say that!" cried Miss Jemima.

"Pardon me," said the Italian, "if I am so dull as to misunderstand you.
One may well lose one's head, at least, in such a neighborhood as this."
He rose as he spoke, and bent over Frank's shoulder to examine some
views of Italy, which Miss Jemima (with what, if wholly unselfish, would
have been an attention truly delicate) had extracted from the library in
order to gratify the guest.

"Most interesting creature, indeed," sighed Miss Jemima, "but too--too
flattering!"

"Tell me," said Mrs. Dale gravely. "do you think, love, that you could
put off the end of the world a little longer, or must we make haste in
order to be in time?"

"How wicked you are!" said Miss Jemima, turning aside.

Some few minutes afterward, Mrs. Dale contrived it so that Dr.
Riccabocca and herself were in a farther corner of the room, looking at
a picture said to be by Wouvermans.

MRS. DALE.--"She is very amiable, Jemima, is she not?"

RICCABOCCA.--"Exceedingly so. Very fine battle-piece!"

MRS. DALE.--"So kind-hearted."

RICCABOCCA.--"All ladies are. How naturally that warrior makes his
desperate cut at the runaway!"

MRS. DALE.--"She is not what is called regularly handsome, but she has
something very winning."

RICCABOCCA, with a smile.--"So winning, that it is strange she is not
won. That gray mare in the fore-ground stands out very boldly!"

MRS. DALE, distrusting the smile of Riccabocca, and throwing in a more
affective grape charge.--"Not won yet; and it _is_ strange!--she will
have a very pretty fortune."

RICCABOCCA.--"Ah!"

MRS. DALE.--"Six thousand pounds. I dare-say--certainly four."

RICCABOCCA, suppressing a sigh, and with his wonted address.--"If Mrs.
Dale were still single, she would never need a friend to say what her
p