The vision on which I gazed in silent rapture, a maiden, who,
though she had apparently attained her full stature, did not seem to be
more than thirteen or fourteen years of age. Her eyes had the brightness
and fulness of the antelope's, but, owing to their long silken lashes,
were yet more expressive of softness than of spirit; and at this time
they evinced more than usual languor. She was in a rich undress, and was
apparently an invalid. Her long raven locks hung with careless grace,
partly behind, and partly over, a neck that might have served as a model
for the sculptor. She was looking wistfully on a bunch of flowers in her
hand, which I felt pleasure in recognising to be the same I had seen on
the piece of embroidery. I feared to advance, lest I should give
offence; but I felt also unable to retreat. I fancied I saw one of those
lovely and dignified females which the writers in your language describe
so well. But a sudden movement of the fair damsel to get up, bringing me
full in her view, she started back with alarm and surprise, and in a
moment afterwards her cheek, which had been before pale, almost to
European whiteness, was deeply suffused. I respectfully approached her,
and inquired if she was one of my cousins. She answered in the negative;
said she was on a visit to the family, to whom she was related: added
that she had not expected to see any one in the garden; but this was
said as if she meant rather to apologise for her undress, than to
reproach me for my intrusion.
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