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Updated: July 2, 2025
Never have I seen Belinda, or rather Belle-bouche, so lovely, and I here disdainfully repel your ridiculous calumny that she's in love with you, you great lump of presumption and overweening self-conceit!
As for Jacques, he was in a dream; one might have supposed that his nerves were steeped in the liquid melody or at times, when he started, that the music came over him like a shower bath of perfume. His sighs would have conciliated tigers; and when she turned and smiled on him, he almost staggered. "Now," said Belle-bouche smiling softly, "suppose I sing something a little merrier.
Belle-bouche enforced her requests with such a wealth of smiles, that Mowbray was compelled to yield. He promised to come, and then suddenly remembered that Philippa would be there, and almost groaned. Belle-bouche finished her purchases, and went out. As she passed Hoffland she dropped her handkerchief.
Belle-bouche rose hastily and returned to her embroidery; Aunt Wimple sat down comfortably, and commenced a flood of talk about the weather; and Jacques fell back on an ottoman overcome with despair. In half an hour he was slowly on his way back to town his arms hanging down, his head bent to his breast, his dreamy eyes fixed intently upon vacancy.
This is Miss Belle-bouche, whom we have heard the melancholy Jacques discourse of with such forlorn eloquence to his friend Tom, or Sir Asinus, as the reader pleases. Belle-bouche, Pretty-mouth, Belinda, or Rebecca for this last was the name given her by her sponsors is a young girl of about seventeen, and of a beauty so fresh and rare that the enthusiasm of Jacques was scarcely strange.
I will come some day when I am gay, and you sad then we shall probably approximate in mood, and until then farewell." She would have detained him; "Don't go!" was on her lips; but at the moment when Mowbray bowed low, a shout of laughter was heard in the passage, and three persons entered Jacques, Belle-bouche, and Sir Asinus.
"And may I call you Belle-bouche?" "If you please." Jacques feels his heart oppressed with its weight of love. He sighs. This manoeuvre is greeted with a little laugh. "Oh, that was a dreadful heigho!" she says; "you must be in love." "I am," he says, "desperately." A slight color comes to her bright cheek, for it is impossible to misunderstand his eloquent glance.
Belle-bouche sitting under a flowering cherry tree, upon the brink of a little stream which, crossed by a wide single log, purled on through sun and shadow.
With which words Belle-Bouche, laughing gaily, read: "Now Jockey was a bonny lad As e'er was born in Scotland fair; But now, poor man, he's e'en gone woad, Since Jenny has gart him despair. "Young Jockey was a piper's son, And fell in love when he was young; But a' the spring that he could play Was o'er the hills and far away!"
"Ah a shepherd," said Belle-bouche, removing a cherry blossom from her hair, and smiling. "Yes, my lovely queen," said Jacques, with great readiness; "I wished to be a shepherd and have a crook " "Oh, sir!" "And that my Arcadian love should also have one and draw me so that passing through the fields " "Oh, yes " "I might kiss her hand " "Yes, yes "
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