"What an admirable one!" added Jean. "A perfect being—what arms, what hands! what eyes! lips that would wreck the soul of St. Anthony—oh, the divine feet—and what an ankle in that silk hose?"
"Hold your tongue! this is coming on finely," said Chon. "You are smitten with her, now. This is the drop that fills the bucket."
"It would not be a bad job if it were so, and she returned me the flame a little. It would save our poor sister a lot of worry."
"Let me have the spyglass a while. Yes, she is very handsome, and she must have had a sweetheart out there in the woods. But she is not reading—see, the book slips out of her hand. I tell you, Jean, that she is in a brown study."
"She sleeps, you mean."
"Not with her eyes open—what lovely eyes! This a good glass, Jean—I can almost read in her book."
"What is the book, then?"
Chon was leaning out a little when she suddenly drew back.
"Gracious! look at that head sticking out of the garret window——"
"Gilbert, by Jove! with what burning eyes he is glaring on the Taverney girl!"