A gay salutation passed between her and Mr.Crimsworth; she chid him, half playfully, half poutingly, for being late; her voice (I always take voices into the account in judging of character) was lively--it indicated, I thought, good animal spirits.

Mr.Crimsworth soon checked her animated scolding with a kiss--a kiss that still told of the bridegroom (they had not yet been married a year); she took her seat at the supper-table in first-rate spirits.

Perceiving me, she begged my pardon for not noticing me before, and then shook hands with me, as ladies do when a flow of good-humour disposes them to be cheerful to all, even the most indifferent of their acquaintance.

It was now further obvious to me that she had a good complexion, and features sufficiently marked but agreeable; her hair was red--quite red.

She and Edward talked much, always in a vein of playful contention; she was vexed, or pretended to be vexed, that he had that day driven a vicious horse in the gig, and he made light of her fears.