that, whether pursing or expanding, it was at all times rippling with an expression of tender benignity.
This little old lady plays no part in our tale; nevertheless she merits passing introduction as being the grandmother of our hero, a Sicilian youth of nineteen, who, at the time we write of, sat on a stool at her feet engaged in earnest conversation.
"Grandmother," said the youth in a perplexed mood, "why won't you let me go into the Church instead of brother Lucien? I'm certain that he does not want to, though he is fit enough, as far as education goes, and goodness; but you know well enough that he is desperately fond of Juliet, and she is equally desperate about him, and nothing could be more pleasant than that they should get married."
"Tut, child, you talk nonsense," said the old lady, letting a sigh escape from the rippling mouth. "Your father's dearest wish has always been to see Lucien enter the Church, and although Juliet is our adopted child, we do not intend to interfere with the wishes of her uncle the abbot, who has offered to place her in the convent of St. Shutemup. As to you taking Lucien's place"—here the mouth expanded considerably—"ah! Mariano, you are too foolish, too giddy; better fitted to be a sailor or a soldier, I should think—"
