n) by long and very dark lashes. Her
complexion alone would have rendered her beautiful, it was so clear--so
pure; the blood blushed beneath it, like roses under a clear stream; if,
in order to justify my simile, roses would have the complacency to grow
in such a situation. Her nose was of that fine and accurate mould that
one so seldom sees, except in the Grecian statues, which unites the
clearest and most decided outline with the most feminine delicacy and
softness; and the short curved arch which descended from thence to her
mouth, was so fine--so airily and exquisitely formed, that it seemed as
if Love himself had modelled the bridge which led to his most beautiful
and fragrant island. On the right side of the mouth was one dimple,
which corresponded so exactly with every smile and movement of those
rosy lips, that you might have sworn the shadow of each passed there; it
was like the rapid changes of an April heaven reflected upon a valley.
She was somewhat, but not much, taller that the ordinary height; and her
figure, which united all the first freshness and youth of the girl with
the more luxuriant graces of the woman, was rounded and finished so
justly, so minutely, that the eye could glance over the whole, without
discovering the least harshness or unevenness, or atom, to be added or
subtracted. But over all these was a light, a glow, a pervading spirit,
of which it is impossible to convey the faintest idea. You should have
seen her by the side of a shaded fountain on a summer's day. You should
have watched her amidst music and flowers, and she might have seemed
to you like the fairy that presided over both. So much for poetical
description.

"What think you of her, Vincent?" said I.

"I say, with Theocritus, in his epithalamium of Helen--"

"Say no such thing," said I: "I will not have her presence profaned by
any helps from your memory."

At that moment the girl turned round abruptly, and re-entered the shop,
at the door of which she had been standing. It was a small perfumer's
shop. "Thank Heaven," said I, "that she does use perfumes. What scents
can she now be hesitating between?--the gentle bouquet du roi, the
cooling esprit de Portugal, the mingled treasures des mellifleurs, the
less distinct but agreeably adulterated miel, the sweet May-recalling
esprit des violets, or the--"

"Omnis copia narium," said Vincent: "let us enter; I want some eau de
Cologne."

I desired no second invitation: we marche