"How wicked you are!" said Miss Jemima, turning aside.
Some few minutes afterward, Mrs. Dale contrived it so that Dr. Riccabocca and herself were in a farther corner of the room, looking at a picture said to be by Wouvermans.
Mrs. Dale.—"She is very amiable, Jemima, is she not?"
Riccabocca.—"Exceedingly so. Very fine battle-piece!"
Mrs. Dale.—"So kind-hearted."
Riccabocca.—"All ladies are. How naturally that warrior makes his desperate cut at the runaway!"
Mrs. Dale.—"She is not what is called regularly handsome, but she has something very winning."
Riccabocca, with a smile.—"So winning, that it is strange she is not won. That gray mare in the fore-ground stands out very boldly!"
Mrs. Dale, distrusting the smile of Riccabocca, and throwing in a more affective grape charge.—"Not won yet; and it is strange!—she will have a very pretty fortune."
Riccabocca.—"Ah!"