Her figure, though slight, had all the fulness of health; and her complexion—still pale, but without its former sickly cast,—contrasted agreeably, by its extreme fairness, with the dark brows and darker lashes that shaded eyes which, if they had lost some of their original brilliancy, had gained infinitely more in the soft and chastened lustre that replaced it. He knew she would be there, practicing alone in 118. But the orchestra had never had a finer hour, and everyone was aware of it. Gianfrancesco had told her about it, how he had played in it as a child with his brothers. But do not awaken my apprehension, unless you have good cause for so doing.
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