stranger but she tried these fascinations upon him; and her charms
of manner and person were of that showy sort which is most popular
in this world, where people are wont to admire most that which gives
them the least trouble to see; and so you will find a tulip of a
woman to be in fashion when a little humble violet or daisy of
creation is passed over without remark. Morgiana was a tulip among
women, and the tulip fanciers all came flocking round her.

Well, the said "Oh" and "I'm better now, Mr. Archibald," thereby
succeeded in drawing everybody's attention to her lovely self. By
the latter words Mr. Eglantine was specially inflamed; he glanced at
Mr. Walker, and said, "Capting! didn't I tell you she was a
CREECHER? See her hair, sir: it's as black and as glossy as
satting. It weighs fifteen pound, that hair, sir; and I wouldn't let
my apprentice--that blundering Mossrose, for instance (hang him!)--I
wouldn't let anyone but myself dress that hair for five hundred
guineas! Ah, Miss Morgiana, remember that you MAY ALWAYS have
Eglantine to dress your hair!--remember that, that's all." And with
this the worthy gentleman began rubbing delicately a little of the
Eglantinia into those ambrosial locks, which he loved with all the
love of a man and an artist.

And as for Morgiana showing her hair, I hope none of my readers will
entertain a bad opinion of the poor girl for doing so. Her locks
were her pride; she acted at the private theatre "hair parts," where
she could appear on purpose to show them in a dishevelled state; and
that her modesty was real, and not affected may be proved by the
fact that when Mr. Walker, stepping up in the midst of Eglantine's
last speech, took hold of a lock of her hair very gently with his
hand, she cried "Oh!" and started with all her might. And Mr.