"By St. Peter! it's the very woman we are speaking of—Madame Evelini herself!" exclaimed Lugari. "Come, we'll join her. I have the pleasure of her acquaintance. Take a good look at her first, and tell me if she does not justify my praises."
Louis, with some curiosity, scrutinized the lady they were approaching. She was about the middle height, with an exquisitely-proportioned figure—a small, fair, but somewhat melancholy face, shaded by a profusion of pale-brown ringlets. Her complexion was exquisitely fair, with dark-blue eyes and beautifully chiseled features. As he gazed, a strange, vague feeling, that he had seen that face somewhere before, flashed across his mind.
"Well, what do you think of her?" said Lugari, rousing him from a reverie into which he was falling.
"That she is a very lovely woman—there can be but one opinion about that."
"How old would you take her to be?"
"About twenty, or twenty-three at the most."
"Phew! she's over thirty."
"Fact, sir; I had it from her own lips. Now, I'll present you; but take care of your heart, my boy—few men can resist the fascinations of the Queen of Song."
"I have a counter-charm," said Louis, with a cold smile.