ap
from the side of the meadow was, however, somewhat higher; and the horse,
when pushed at it, at first turned away; whereupon Tawno backed him to a
greater distance, pushed the horse to a full gallop, giving a wild cry;
whereupon the horse again took the wall, slightly grazing one of his legs
against it. 'A near thing,' said the landlord, 'but a good leap. Now,
no more leaping, so long as I have control over the animal.'"

A very different beautiful scene is where Mrs. Petulengro braids Isopel's
fair hair in Gypsy fashion, half against her will, and Lavengro looks on,
showing Isopel at a glance his disapproval of the fashion, while
Petulengro admires it. If it is not too much to quote, I will do so,
because it is the clearest and most detailed picture of more than one
figure in the whole of the autobiography. Mr. and Mrs. Petulengro have
come to visit Isopel, and Lavengro has fetched her to his tent, where
they are awaiting her:

"So Belle and I advanced towards our guests. As we drew nigh Mr.
Petulengro took off his hat and made a profound obeisance to Belle,
whilst Mrs. Petulengro rose from her stool and made a profound curtsey.
Belle, who had flung her hair back over her shoulders, returned their
salutations by bending her head, and after slightly glancing at Mr.
Petulengro, fixed her large blue eyes full upon his wife. Both these
females were very handsome--but how unlike! Belle fair, with blue eyes
and flaxen hair; Mrs. Petulengro with olive complexion, eyes black, and
hair dark--as dark could be. Belle, in demeanour calm and proud; the
Gypsy graceful, but full of movement and agitation. And then how
different were those two in stature! The head of the Romany rawnie
scarcely ascended to the breast of Isopel Berners. I could see that Mrs.
Petulengro gazed on Belle with unmixed admiration: so did her husband.
'Well,' said the latter, 'one thing I will say, which is, that there is
only one on earth worthy to stand up in front of this she, and that is
the beauty of the world, as far as man flesh is concerned, Tawno Chikno;
what a pity he did not come down! . . .'

"Mrs. Petulengro says: 'You are very beautiful, madam, though you are not
dressed as I could wish to see you, and your hair is hanging down in sad
confusion; allow me to assist you in arranging your hair, madam; I will
dress it for you in our fashion; I would fain see how your hair would
look in our poor Gypsy fashion; pray allow me, madam?' an