Mallet's pardon." Mrs.
Light gathered up the dusky locks and let them fall through her fingers,
glancing at her visitor with a significant smile. Rowland had never
been in the East, but if he had attempted to make a sketch of an old
slave-merchant, calling attention to the "points" of a Circassian
beauty, he would have depicted such a smile as Mrs. Light's. "Mamma 's
not really shocked," added Christina in a moment, as if she had guessed
her mother's by-play. "She is only afraid that Mr. Hudson might have
injured my hair, and that, per consequenza, I should sell for less."
"You unnatural child!" cried mamma. "You deserve that I should make a
fright of you!" And with half a dozen skillful passes she twisted the
tresses into a single picturesque braid, placed high on the head, as a
kind of coronal.
"What does your mother do when she wants to do you justice?" Rowland
asked, observing the admirable line of the young girl's neck.
"I do her justice when I say she says very improper things. What is one
to do with such a thorn in the flesh?" Mrs. Light demanded.
"Think of it at your leisure, Mr.
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