must pay for it, there sat two persons side by side, engaged in close
conversation. The one was a female, in whose pale clear complexion and
raven hair, in whose eyes, vivid with a power of expression rarely
bestowed on the beauties of the North, we recognize Beatrice, Marchesa di
Negra. Undeniably handsome as was the Italian lady, her companion,
though a man, and far advanced into middle age, was yet more remarkable
for personal advantages. There was a strong family likeness between the
two; but there was also a striking contrast in air, manner, and all that
stamps on the physiognomy the idiosyncrasies of character. There was
something of gravity, of earnestness and passion, in Beatrice's
countenance when carefully examined; her smile at times might be false,
but it was rarely ironical, never cynical. Her gestures, though
graceful, were unrestrained and frequent. You could see she was a
daughter of the South. Her companion, on the contrary, preserved on the
fair, smooth face, to which years had given scarcely a line or wrinkle,
something that might have passed, at first glance, for the levity and
thoughtlessness of a gay and youthful nature; but the smile, though
exquisitely polished, took at times the derision of a sneer. In his
manners he was as composed and as free from gesture as an Englishman.
His hair was of that red brown with which the Italian painters produce
such marvellous effects of colour; and if here and there a silver thread
gleamed through the locks, it was lost at once amidst their luxuriance.
His eyes were light, and his complexion, though without much colour, was
singularly transparent. His beauty, indeed, would have been rather
womanly than masculine, but for the height and sinewy spareness of a
frame in which muscular strength was rather adorned than concealed by an
admirable elegance of proportion. You would never have guessed this man
to be an Italian; more likely you would have supposed him a Parisian. He
conversed in French, his dress was of French fashion, his mode of thought
seemed French. Not that he was like the Frenchman of the present day,--