Could one man in one century
do more for the Ideal and the Real?
CHAPTER XXXII.
"Sweetest lips that ever were kissed,
Brightest eyes that ever have shone,
May sigh and whisper, and _he_ not list,
Or look away, and never be missed
Long or ever a month be gone."
It was a very curious _menage_ that of the Forresters'. They were
wonderfully happy, yet you could not call theirs _domestic_ felicity.
They went out perpetually every where, and were scarcely ever alone
together at home. Tho cold-water cure of matrimony had not been able to
cool either down into the dignity and steadiness befitting that
honorable state. As far as I could see, Charley flirted as much as ever;
the only difference was, that he stole upon his victims now with a sort
of protecting and paternal air, merging gradually, as the interest
deepened, into the old confidential style. The whole effect was, if any
thing, more seductive than before.
The fair Venetians admired him intensely. His bright, clear complexion
and rich chestnut hair had the charm of novelty for them. Though without
the faintest respect for grammar or idiom, he spoke their language with
perfect composure, confidence, and self-satisfaction, and his tones were
so well adapted to the slow, soft, languid tongue, that his blunders
sounded better than other men's correctness of speech.
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