I began tamely enough, with a stiff list of features and catalogue of colours.

But as I talked recollection warmed my voice; and when Barbara's lips curled scornfully, as though she would say, "What is there in this to make men fools?
There is nothing in all this," I grew more vehement and painted the picture with all my skill.

What malice began, my ardour perfected, until, engrossed in my fancy, I came near to forgetting that I had a listener, and ended with a start as I found Barbara's eyes fixed on mine, while she stood motionless before me.

My exultation vanished, and confusion drove away my passion.
"You bade me describe her," said I lamely.

"I do not know whether others see as I do, but such is she to my eyes." A silence followed.