grace of line in those hollows, which will yet
fill out and show plump, round, and well modeled, under the satiny skin.
The somewhat crude outline of the arms is seen again in the shoulders.
Strictly speaking, indeed, I have no shoulders, but only two bony
blades, standing out in harsh relief. My figure also lacks pliancy;
there is a stiffness about the side lines.

Poof! There's the worst out. But then the contours are bold and
delicate, the bright, pure flame of health bites into the vigorous
lines, a flood of life and of blue blood pulses under the transparent
skin, and the fairest daughter of Eve would seem a Negress beside me! I
have the foot of a gazelle! My joints are finely turned, my features
of a Greek correctness. It is true, madame, that the flesh tints do not
melt into each other; but, at least, they stand out clear and bright. In
short, I am a very pretty green fruit, with all the charm of unripeness.
I see a great likeness to the face in my aunt's old missal, which rises
out of a violet lily.

There is no silly weakness in the blue of my insolent eyes; the white
is pure mother-of-pearl, prettily marked with tiny veins, and the thick,
long lashes fall like a silken fringe. My forehead sparkles, and the
hair grows deliciously; it ripples into waves of pale gold, growing
browner towards the centre, whence escape little rebel locks, which
alone would tell that my fairness is not of the insipid and hysterical
type. I am a tropical blonde, with plenty of blood in my veins, a
blonde more apt to strike than to turn the cheek. What do you think the
hairdresser proposed? He wanted, if you please, to smooth my hair into
two bands, and place over my forehead a pearl, kept in place by a gold
chain! He said it would recall the Middle Ages.

I told him I was not aged enough to have reached the middle, or to need
an ornament to freshen me up!

The nose is slender, and the well-cut nostrils are separated by a
sweet little pink partition--an imperious, mocking nose, with a tip
too sensitive ever to grow fat or red. Sweetheart, if this won't find
a husband for a dowerless maiden, I'm a donkey. The ears are daintily
curled, a pearl hanging from either lobe would show yellow. The neck
is long, and has an undulating motion full of dignity. In the shade the
white ripens to a golden tinge. Perhaps the mouth is a little large. But
how expressive! what a color on the lips! how prettily the teeth laugh!

Then, dear, there is a