"Your person would suit the forest page very well," he said; "for you are slender, and slight in figure. But how would you compass the scenes where Rosalind appears in her proper character—in female dress?"
"Oh!" laughed Hoffland, with some quickness, "I think I could easily act that part."
"I doubt it."
"You don't know my powers, Ernest."
"Well, perhaps not; but let us dismiss the ball, and Rosalind, and all. How motley a crowd! I almost agree with Jacques, that 'motley's the only wear.'"
"Jacques! that reminds me of the melancholy fellow we saw just now, sighing and languishing with that little Belle-bouche——"
"Why, you know her familiar name—how, Charles?"
Hoffland laughed.
"Oh" he said, "did I not leave my MS. love songs to Jacques; and can you imagine that I was ignorant of—but we are throwing away words. Everybody's in love, I believe—Jacques is not singular. Look at this little pair of lovers—school-girl and school-boy, devoted to each other, and consuming with the tender passion. Poor unfortunate creatures!"
With which words Hoffland laughed, and pointed to a boy and girl who were passing along some steps in advance of them.