If Diana's future happiness had been contingent on
the shape of her husband's nose, or the colour of his eyes, these two
ladies could not have been more anxious upon the subject.
"Has he long eyelashes, and a dreamy look in his eyes, like Valentine?"
asked Charlotte, secretly convinced that her lover had a copyright in
these personal graces.
"Does he wear whiskers?" asked Georgy. "I remember, when I was quite a
girl, and went to parties at Barlingford, being struck by Mr. Sheldon's
whiskers. And I was quite offended with papa, who was always making
sarcastic remarks, for calling them mutton-chop whiskers; but they
really were the shape of mutton-cutlets at that time. He wears them
differently now."
Mrs. Sheldon branched off into a disquisition on whiskers, and Diana
escaped from the task of describing her lover. She could not have
described him to Georgy.
By-and-by she asked permission to leave Bayswater for a fortnight, in
order to see her lover's home and friends.
"I will come back to you, and stay as long as you like, dear Mrs.
Sheldon," she said, "and make you as many caps as you please. And I will
make them for you by and by, when I am living abroad, and send them over
to you in a bandbox. It will be a great delight to me to be of some
little service to a friend who has been so kind. And perhaps you will
fancy the caps are prettier when they can boast of being French.
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