Florence
looked more beautiful, as the clear cold air brought the glow to her
cheek, added to the effect of her mourning dress and the expression
of quiet happiness, imparting an indescribable charm to her lovely
features.

"As you now stand, Miss Florence, looking so earnestly toward the
east, you seem to me a perfect realization of Willis's Jephtha's
Daughter:

"'She stood before her father's gorgeous tent,
To listen for his coming. Her loose hair
Was resting on her shoulder, like a cloud
Floating around a statue, and the wind
Just swaying her light robe, revealed a shape
Praxiteles might worship:
Her countenance was radiant with love:
She looked to die for it--a being whose
Whole existence was the pouring out
Of rich and deep affections.'"

As he looked upon her these lines were uttered half unconsciously;
and then turning to Mary, he gently asked if he might speak what was
passing in his mind.

"Certainly, Frank--continue your quotation; the lines never seemed so
beautiful before;" said Mr. Stewart, glancing at Florence as he spoke.

"Doubtless not, Stewart, because never so applied. Miss Hamilton, your
cousin looks more as did the Jewish maiden at close of evening:

"'Her face was pale, but very beautiful; her lip
Had a more delicate outline, and the tint
Was deeper. But her countenance was like the
Majesty of Angels.'"

"Dr. Bryant, is it possible you so far forget yourself and previously
expressed opinions, as to make quotations? I thought you a sworn foe
to the practise."

"On ordinary occasions, I am: and you may rest assured it is the last
time I commit such an absurdity by a camp fire. I think you once asked
me my objection--will you hear it now? When I was quite young, I one
day read an anecdote of the celebrated Greek professor, Dr. Porson,
which gave me a strong bias against quotations, particularly locating
them, which necessarily follows. Porson was once traveling in a
stage-coach, when a young Oxonian, fresh from college, was amusing
some ladies with quite a variety of small talk, among other things
a quotation from Sophocles, as he said. A Greek quotation in a
stage-coach roused Porson, who half slumbered in a quiet corner.
'Young gentleman,' said he, 'I think you indulged us, just now, with a
quotation from Sophocles; I don't happen to remember it there.'--'Oh,
sir,' rejoined the tyro, 'the quotation is word for word, and in
Sophocles too.' The professor ha