"Well," said Belle, laying down her work, "I will come." "Stay," said I; "your hair is hanging about your ears, and your dress is in disorder; you had better stay a minute or two to prepare yourself to appear before your visitors, who have come in their very best attire." "No," said Belle, "I will make no alteration in my appearance; you told me to come this moment, and you shall be obeyed." So Belle and I advanced towards our guests.

As we drew nigh Mr.Petulengro took off his hat, and made a profound obeisance to Belle, whilst Mrs.Petulengro rose from the stool, and made a profound curtsey.

Belle, who had flung her hair back over her shoulders, returned their salutations by bending her head, and after slightly glancing at Mr.Petulengro, fixed her large blue eyes full upon his wife.

Both these females were very handsome--but how unlike! Belle fair, with blue eyes and flaxen hair; Mrs.Petulengro with olive complexion, eyes black, and hair dark--as dark as could be.
Belle, in demeanour calm and proud; the gypsy graceful, but full of movement and agitation.

And then how different were those two in stature! The head of the Romany rawnie scarcely ascended to the breast of Isopel Berners.