“By all means, give her a fan. And as you’re doubtful about the likeness, let it be done so as to cover her face—at least the lower half of it; that will be just as they carry it. You can hide that nose, which is a trifle too snub for your fiancée. The eyes appear good enough.”
“The Chileña had splendid eyes!”
“Of course, or she wouldn’t have her portrait on your arm. But how did the artist know that? Has he ever seen the original?”
“No; I described her to him; and he’s well acquainted with the costume the Chilian girls wear. He’s seen plenty of such. I told him to make the face a nice oval, with a small mouth, and pretty pouting lips; then to give her great big eyes. You see he’s done all that.”
“He has, certainly.”
“About the feet? They’ll do, won’t they? They’re small enough, I should say.”
“Quite small enough; and those ankles are perfection. They ought to satisfy your Andalusian—almost flatter her.”
“Flatter her! I should think not. They might your Biscayan, with her big feet; but not Iñez; who’s got the tiniest little understandings I ever saw under the skirt of a petticoat—tall as she is.”
“Stuff!” scornfully retorts Crozier; “that’s a grand mistake people make about small feet. It’s not the size, but the shape, that’s to be admired. They should be in proportion to the rest of the body; otherwise they’re a monstrosity—as among the Chinese, for instance. And as for small feet in men, about which the French pride, and pinch themselves, why every tailor’s got that.”
“Ha, ha ha!” laughs the young Welshman. “A treatise on Orthopoedia, or whatever it’s called. Well, I shall let the Chilena’s feet stand, with the ankles too, and get Grummet to add on the toggery.”