"Them's catchpoles, I s'pose, Sir, arter the gemman with a writ?" he observed. Balanced on his nose were enormous tortoise-shell spectacles. Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. She seemed to have no idea whatever of the emotional states that were becoming to her age and position.
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