This great lady is not to be blamed for deeming that her errand-boy was pointing her out vulgarly on a public promenade.
Ineffable disdain curled off her sweet olive visage.

She turned her head.
'I 'll go down to that girl to-night,' said Raikes, with compressed passion.

And then he hurried Franko along to the bridge, where, behold, the Countess alighted with the gentleman, and walked beside him into the gardens.
'Follow her,' said Raikes, in agitation.

'Do you see her?
by yon long-tailed raven's side?
Follow her, Franko! See if he kisses her hand-anything! and meet me here in half an hour.

I'll have evidence!' Franko did not altogether like the office, but Raikes' dinners, singular luck, and superiority in the encounter of puns, gave him the upper hand with his friend, and so Franko went.
Turning away from the last glimpse of his Countess, Raikes crossed the bridge, and had not strolled far beneath the bare branches of one of the long green walks, when he perceived a gentleman with two ladies leaning on him.
'Now, there,' moralized this youth; 'now, what do you say to that?
Do you call that fair?
He can't be happy, and it's not in nature for them to be satisfied.