There was a Highland family settled in the town the year afore,
consisting of old Mr Duncan Chisholm, his wife, and daughter Flora.
The old people were carried off by the disease, and Flora was left
without friends or means, and the worst of it was, she could hardly
speak a word of intelligible English. Well, Minister took great pity
on her, and spoke to father about taking her into his house, as sister
Sally was just married, and the old lady left without any companion;
and they agreed to take her as one of them, and she was in return to
help mother all she could. So, next day, she came, and took up her
quarters with us. Oh my, Miss Janet, what a beautiful girl she was!
She was as tall as you are, Jessie, and had the same delicate little
feet and hands."
I threw that in on purpose, for women, in a general way, don't like to
hear others spoken of too extravagant, particularly if you praise them
for anything they hain't got; but if you praise them for anything they
pride themselves on, they are satisfied, because it shows you estimate
them also at the right valy, too. It took, for she pushed her foot out
a little, and rocked it up and down slowly, as if she was rather proud
of it.
"Her hair was a rich auburn, not red (I don't like that at all, for it
is like a lucifer-match, apt to go off into a flame spontinaciously
sometimes), but a golden colour, and lots of it too, just about as
much as she could cleverly manage; eyes like diamonds; complexion, red
and white roses; and teeth, not quite so regular as yours, Miss, but
as white as them; and lips--lick!--they reminded one of a curl of rich
rose-leaves, when the bud first begins to swell and spread out with a
sort of peachy bloom on them, ripe, rich, and chock full of kisses.
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