Her manner was distinguished, her voice rich; but most marvellous
of all was her hand, such a hand as Parmeggianino might have painted,
all soul, branching off into five delightful fingers.
Mentally I unhesitatingly dubbed her the most marvelous feminine
creature I had ever seen, and that less on account of her loveliness
than the blending of the magnificence of her bearing with the ardour,
and often the frolicsomeness, of her mode of expression.
She was always vigorous and sometimes daring in her statements, cared
only for the unusual, loved only "the impossible," but nevertheless
carefully observed every established custom of society. To my very first
remark to her, to the effect that the weakness of women was mostly only
an habitual phrase; they were not weak except when they wished to be,
she replied: "Young as you are, you know women very well!" In that she
was quite wrong.
Besides Spanish and Portuguese, she spoke French perfectly and English
not badly, sang in a melodious contralto voice, drew well for an
amateur, carved alabaster vases, and had all kinds of talents. She did
not care to sing ballads, only cared for grand pathos.
She was just twenty years of age, and had come into the world at Rio,
where her father represented the Spanish government. The family were
descended from Cervantes.
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