“What have you there?” he asked me.
“The picture of the Dowager Countess of Clairval.”
“How far is she related to your travelling companion?”
“She was married to his brother.”
“So young, and already a widow?” said he, looking at the picture; “I should have mistaken it for the picture of a girl of seventeen years. However, the painters are used to flatter.”
“I assure you, the original possesses numberless charms which have escaped the artist.”
“Then the Countess must be extremely handsome.”
“She is an angel.”
“The face is more interesting than handsome.”
“Handsome and interesting to a high degree.”