Poor girl! she was beautiful once; so beautiful as to make me, who care little for the allurements of women, fancy myself enamoured of her. A dovecoloured kincob gown, embroidered with large trees, and made very low in front, displayed to the greatest possible advantage, the rounded proportions of her figure; while a high-heeled, red-leather shoe did not detract from the symmetry of a very neat ankle, and a very small foot. “And aren’t there fees to pay at the Imperial College?” her aunt was saying—a disagreeable question. "You are, Sir," thundered Jonathan; "and, unless you find him, you shan't hold your place a week. CHAPTER XXI.
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