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The Coquette.

in the very rebellion of that tiny curl which invariably breaks the bondage of those glossy braids. Too suggestive of liberty is that recreant "love-lock," which jewelled fingers are constantly thrusting back, or which a toss of the Phidian head sets quivering along with the red rose imprisoned in her soft tresses, and the long spray, tipped with an opening bud, that roams caressingly down her white shoulders.

But there is no disorder about her toilet, save that which is apparent in the straying of the escaped ringlet, which brings to mind Pope's declaration that "man's imperial race" are ensnared by fair tresses, that beauty draws by "a single hair," and recalls what some other bard has sung about lovers "being tangled in the meshes of Phillis' locks."

Did we venture to use the word "disorder" in relation to Amanda's toilet? That expression was singularly inappropriate, for she is attired with such exquisitely elaborate care, that one might imagine there was no leisure in her day for any other employment than the arraying of her fair person; not time even for thanks to Him who fashioned the loveliness she delights to deck; or else we might fancy that she had revived the custom of those courtly belles in days of yore, whose toilets and devotions progressed at the same moment, who worshipped the idol reflected in their mirrors, and their God together; who gave audience at once to the chaplain and the hair-dresser, and joined in the