 | Lucile |  |
XXVIII.
Gay sounds from below
Floated up like faint echoes of joys long ago,
And night deepen'd apace: through the dark avenues
The lamps twinkled bright; and by threes, and by twos,
The idlers of Serchon were strolling at will,
As Lord Alfred could see from the cool window-sill,
Where his gaze, as he languidly turn'd it, fell o'er
His late travelling companion, now passing before
The inn, at the window of which he still sat,
In full toilette,—boots varnish'd, and snowy cravat,
Gaily smoothing and buttoning a yellow kid glove,
As he turn'd down the avenue.
Floated up like faint echoes of joys long ago,
51
The lamps twinkled bright; and by threes, and by twos,
The idlers of Serchon were strolling at will,
As Lord Alfred could see from the cool window-sill,
Where his gaze, as he languidly turn'd it, fell o'er
His late travelling companion, now passing before
The inn, at the window of which he still sat,
In full toilette,—boots varnish'd, and snowy cravat,
Gaily smoothing and buttoning a yellow kid glove,
As he turn'd down the avenue.
Watching above,
From his window, the stranger, who stopp'd as he walk'd
To mix with those groups, and now nodded, now talk'd,
To the young Paris dandies, Lord Alfred discern'd,
By the way hats were lifted, and glances were turn'd,
That his unknown acquaintance, now bound for the ball,
Was a person of rank and of fashion; for all
Whom he bow'd to in passing, or stopp'd with and chatter'd,
Walk'd on with a look which implied ... ‘I feel flatter'd!’
From his window, the stranger, who stopp'd as he walk'd
To mix with those groups, and now nodded, now talk'd,
To the young Paris dandies, Lord Alfred discern'd,
By the way hats were lifted, and glances were turn'd,
That his unknown acquaintance, now bound for the ball,
Was a person of rank and of fashion; for all
Whom he bow'd to in passing, or stopp'd with and chatter'd,
Walk'd on with a look which implied ... ‘I feel flatter'd!’
| Lucile | |