ought to know with what manner
of heart she has been so recklessly playing, so after stealing down
the stairs I felt I should never have mounted, I crept from the house
and made my way as best I could through the huge forest-trees that so
thickly clustered at its back, till I came upon the high-road which
leads to the village. Walking straight to Juliet's house I asked to
see her, and shall never forget the blooming beauty of her presence as
she stepped into the room and gave me her soft white hand to kiss.

As she is no longer the object of my worship and hardly the friend of
my heart, I think I can speak of her loveliness now without being
misunderstood. So I will let my pen trace for once a record of her
charms, which in that hour were surely great enough to excuse the
rivalry of which they had been the subject, and perhaps to account for
the disinterestedness of the man who had once given her his heart.

She is of medium height, this Juliet, and her form has that sway in it
which you see in a lily nodding on its stem. But she is no lily in her
most enchanting movements, but rather an ardent passion-flower burning
and palpitating in the sun. Her skin, which is milk-white, has strange
flushes in it, and her eyes, which never look at you twice with the
same meaning, are blue, or gray, or black, as her feeling varies and
the soul informing them is in a state of joy, or trouble. Her most
bewitching feature is her mouth, which has two dangerous dimples near
it that go and come, sometimes without her volition and sometimes, I
fear, with her full accord and desire. Her hair is brown and falls in
such a mass of ringlets that no cap has ever yet been found which can
confine it and keep it from weaving a golden net in which to entangle
the hearts of men. When she smiles you feel like rushing forward; when
she frowns you question yourself humbly what you have done to merit a
look so out of keeping with the playful cast of her countenance and
the arch bearing of her spirited young form. She was dressed, as she
always is, simply, but there was infinite coquetry in the tie of the
blue ribbon on her shoulder, and if a close cap of dainty lace could
make a face look more entrancing, I should like the privilege of
seeing it. She was in an amiable mood and smiled upon my homage like a
fairy queen.

"I have come to pay my final respects to Juliet Playfair," I
announced; "for by the tokens up yonder she will soon be classed among
ou