His features were not bad, lips thin, nose prominent, hands and feet small.
His brilliant black eyes lighted up his whole countenance.
His hair, which was nearly straight, hung in curls upon his lofty brow.
George Combe or Fowler would have selected his head for a model.
He was brave and daring, strong in person, fiery in spirit,
yet kind and true in his affections, earnest in his doctrines.
Clotelle had been at the parson's but a few weeks when it was
observed that a mutual feeling had grown up between her and Jerome.
As time rolled on, they became more and more attached to each other.
After satisfying herself that these two really loved, Georgiana advised
their marriage. But Jerome contemplated his escape at some future day,
and therefore feared that if married it might militate against it.
He hoped, also, to be able to get Clotelle away too, and it was this hope
that kept him from trying to escape by himself. Dante did not more love
his Beatrice, Swift his Stella, Waller his Saccharissa, Goldsmith his
Jessamy bride, or Burns his Mary, than did Jerome his Clotelle.
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