FIRST PERIOD: THE LOSS OF THE DIAMOND (1848)
8. CHAPTER VIII
(continued)
Seeing the pleasure which Mr. Franklin and Miss Rachel took
in each other's society, and noting what a pretty match
they were in all personal respects, we naturally speculated
on the chance of their putting their heads together with
other objects in view besides the ornamenting of a door.
Some of us said there would be a wedding in the house before
the summer was over. Others (led by me) admitted it was
likely enough Miss Rachel might be married; but we doubted
(for reasons which will presently appear) whether her bridegroom
would be Mr. Franklin Blake.
That Mr. Franklin was in love, on his side, nobody who saw and heard
him could doubt. The difficulty was to fathom Miss Rachel.
Let me do myself the honour of making you acquainted with her;
after which, I will leave you to fathom for yourself--
if you can.
My young lady's eighteenth birthday was the birthday now coming,
on the twenty-first of June. If you happen to like dark women
(who, I am informed, have gone out of fashion latterly in the gay
world), and if you have no particular prejudice in favour of size,
I answer for Miss Rachel as one of the prettiest girls your eyes
ever looked on. She was small and slim, but all in fine proportion
from top to toe. To see her sit down, to see her get up,
and specially to see her walk, was enough to satisfy any man
in his senses that the graces of her figure (if you will pardon
me the expression) were in her flesh and not in her clothes.
Her hair was the blackest I ever saw. Her eyes matched her hair.
Her nose was not quite large enough, I admit. Her mouth and chin were
(to quote Mr. Franklin) morsels for the gods; and her complexion
(on the same undeniable authority) was as warm as the sun itself,
with this great advantage over the sun, that it was always in nice
order to look at. Add to the foregoing that she carried her head
as upright as a dart, in a dashing, spirited, thoroughbred way--
that she had a clear voice, with a ring of the right metal in it,
and a smile that began very prettily in her eyes before it got to her lips--
and there behold the portrait of her, to the best of my painting, as large
as life!
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