Laura without dark eyes would be impossible, and her predestined
Petrarch would never deliver his sonnets. Helen may be seen only against
a background of Trojan wall. Gertrude must be tall and fair and ready
with ballads in the winter twilight. Julia's reserve and discretion
commend her to you; but she has a heart of laughter. Anne is to be found
in the rose garden with clipping-shears and a basket. Hilda is a capable
person; there is no ignoring her militant character; the battles of Saxon
kings ring still in her blood. Marjorie has scribbled verses in secret,
and Celia is the quietest auditor at the symphony. And you may have
observed that there is no button on Elizabeth's foil; you do well not to
clash wits with her. Do you say that these ascriptions are not square
with your experience? Then verily there must have been a sad mixing
of infant candidates for the font in your parish. Shirley, in such case,
will mean nothing to you. It is a waste of time to tell you that the name
may become audible without being uttered; you can not be made to
understand that the _r_ and _l_ slip into each other as ripples glide
over pebbles in a brook.
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