“I don’t care how soon,” continued the cuirassier captain, musing as he spoke. “I shouldn’t care how soon—but—that, if it come to blows, we’ll be called away from here; and after the infernal marchings and countermarchings we’ve had for the last six months, I feel inclined for a little rest. I think I could enjoy the dolce far niente devilish well down here—that is, for a month or so. Nice quarters, a’nt they?”
“Are, by Ged!”
“Nice girls too—you’ve seen them, haven’t you?”
“Just a glimpse of them through the window, as I was dressing. There were two of them out on the terrace.”
“There are only two—a daughter, and a niece. Come, cornet; declare yourself! Which?”
“Well, the little un’s the one to my taste. She’s a beauty, by Ged!”
“Ha! ha! ha! I might have known it?” cried the captain. “Well—well—well!” he continued speaking to himself in a careless drawl. “I believe, as I always did, that Nature has formed some souls utterly incapable of appreciating her highest works. Now here is a man, who actually thinks that dapper little prude more beautiful than her queenlike cousin; a woman that to me—a man of true taste and experience—is known to possess qualities—ah! such qualities! Ha! ha! ha! Stubbs sees but the bodice and skirt. I can perceive something more—never mind what—the soul that is concealed under them. He sees a pretty lip—a sparkling eye—a neat nose—a shining tress; and he falls over head and ears in love with one or other of these objects. To me ’tis neither lip, glance, nor tress: ’tis the tout ensemble—lips, nose, eyes, cheeks, and chevelure—soul and body all combined!”
“By Ged! that would be perfection,” cried Stubbs, who stood listening to the enraptured soliloquy.
“So it would, cornet.”
“But where will you find such? Nowhere, I should say?”