“We should be delighted, but my brother says you don’t want to go with us.”
“Quite so, the reason is that I should be recognized. But I believe the gentleman who will accompany you is of the same figure as myself.”
“Exactly the same,” said the cousin; “except that he is fair.”
“All the better,” said I, “the fair always conquer the dark with ease.”
“Not always,” said the other. “But tell us, at any rate, whether we are to wear men’s dresses.”
“Fie! fie! I should be angry with myself if I had entertained such a thought.”
“That’s curious; why so?”
“I’ll tell you. If the disguise is complete I am disgusted, for the shape of a woman is much more marked than that of a man, and consequently a woman in man’s dress, who looks like a man, cannot have a good figure.”
“But when a woman skews her shape well?”
“Then I am angry with her for shewing too much, for I like to see the face and the general outlines of the form and to guess the rest.”