I cannot pretend to deny that I am interested in the girl. Alone,
unprotected, as I have seen so many young girls left in boarding-houses,
the centre of all the men's eyes that surround the table, watched with
jealous sharpness by every woman, most of all by that poor relation of
our landlady, who belongs to the class of women that like to catch others
in mischief when they themselves are too mature for indiscretions, (as
one sees old rogues turn to thief-catchers,) one of Nature's gendarmerie,
clad in a complete suit of wrinkles, the cheapest coat-of-mail against
the shafts of the great little enemy,--so surrounded, Iris spans this
commonplace household-life of ours with her arch of beauty, as the
rainbow, whose name she borrows, looks down on a dreary pasture with its
feeding flocks and herds of indifferent animals.
These young girls that live in boarding-houses can do pretty much as they
will. The female gendarmes are off guard occasionally. The sitting-room
has its solitary moments, when any two boarders who wish to meet may come
together accidentally, (accidentally, I said, Madam, and I had not the
slightest intention of Italicizing the word,) and discuss the social or
political questions of the day, or any other subject that may prove
interesting.
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