The Charpillon, who was well known in London, and I believe is still
alive, was one of those beauties in whom it is difficult to find any
positive fault. Her hair was chestnut coloured, and astonishingly long
and thick, her blue eyes were at once languorous and brilliant, her skin,
faintly tinged with a rosy hue, was of a dazzling whiteness; she was tall
for her age, and seemed likely to become as tall as Pauline. Her breast
was perhaps a little small, but perfectly shaped, her hands were white
and plump, her feet small, and her gait had something noble and gracious.
Her features were of that exquisite sensibility which gives so much charm
to the fair sex, but nature had given her a beautiful body and a deformed
soul. This siren had formed a design to wreck my happiness even before
she knew me, and as if to add to her triumph she told me as much.

I left Malingan's house not like a man who, fond of the fair sex, is glad
to have made the acquaintance of a beautiful woman, but in a state of
stupefaction that the image of Pauline, which was always before me, was
not strong enough to overcome the influence of a creature like the
Charpillon, whom in my heart I could not help despising.

I calmed myself by saying that this strong impression was due to novelty,
and by hoping that I should soon be disenchanted.

"She will have no charm," said I, "when I have once possessed her, and
that will not be long in coming." Perhaps the reader will think that I
was too presumptuous, but why should I suppose that there would be any
difficulty? She had asked me to dinner herself, she had surrendered
herself entirely to Morosini, who was not the man to sigh for long at any
woman's feet, and must have paid her, for he was not young enough nor
handsome enough to inspire her with a fancy for him. Without counting my
physical attractions, I had plenty of money, and I was not afraid of