exquisite mouth, whence smiles darted like
sunbeams, and words like music, a head such as Raphael would have given
to Mary, set upon a neck that Jean Goujon would have attributed to a
Venus. And, in order that nothing might be lacking to this bewitching
face, her nose was not handsome--it was pretty; neither straight nor
curved, neither Italian nor Greek; it was the Parisian nose, that is
to say, spiritual, delicate, irregular, pure,--which drives painters to
despair, and charms poets.

When Marius passed near her, he could not see her eyes, which were
constantly lowered. He saw only her long chestnut lashes, permeated with
shadow and modesty.

This did not prevent the beautiful child from smiling as she listened
to what the white-haired old man was saying to her, and nothing could
be more fascinating than that fresh smile, combined with those drooping
eyes.

For a moment, Marius thought that she was another daughter of the same
man, a sister of the former, no doubt. But when the invariable habit of
his stroll brought him, for the second time, near the bench, and he had
examined her attentively, he recognized her as the same. In six months
the little girl had become a young maiden; that was all. Nothing is more
frequent than this phenomenon. There is a moment when girls blossom out
in the twinkling of an eye, and become roses all at once. One left
them children but yesterday; today, one finds them disquieting to the
feelings.

This child had not only grown, she had become idealized. As three days
in April suffice to cover certain trees with flowers, six months had
sufficed to clothe her with beauty. Her April had arrived.

One sometimes sees people, who, poor and mean, seem to wake up, pass
suddenly from indigence to luxury, indulge in expenditures of all sorts,
and become dazzling, prodigal, magnificent, all of a sudden. That is
the result of having pocketed an income; a note fell due yesterday. The
young girl had received her quarterly income.

And then, she was no longer the school-girl with her felt hat, her
merino gown, her scholar's shoes, and red hands; taste had come to her
with beauty; she was a well-dressed person, clad with a sort of rich
and simple elegance, and without affectation. She wore a dress of black
damask, a cape of the same material, and a bonnet of white crape. Her
white gloves displayed the delicacy of the hand which toyed with the
carved, Chinese ivory handle of a parasol, and her silke