Awther Pindinnis, a young gentleman of property in the
neighbourhood, a person of refoined moind, and enviable manners, a
sincare lover of poethry, and a man possest of a feeling and affectionate
heart."
"It is very fine weather," Miss Fotheringay said, in an Irish accent, and
with a deep rich melancholy voice.
"Very," said Mr. Pendennis. In this romantic way their conversation
began; and he found himself seated on a chair, and having leisure to look
at the young lady.
She looked still handsomer off the stage, than before the lamps. All her
attitudes were naturally grand and majestical. If she went and stood up
against the mantelpiece her robe draped itself classically round her; her
chin supported itself on her hand, the other lines of her form arranged
themselves in full harmonious undulations--she looked like a Muse in
contemplation. If she sate down on a cane-bottomed chair, her arm rounded
itself over the back of the seat, her hand seemed as if it ought to have
a sceptre put into it, the folds of her dress fell naturally round her in
order, like ladies of honour round a throne, and she looked like an
empress.
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