Nothing is more voluptuous than those large, liquid eyes. Her brown skin is perhaps rather too dark, and her mocking, sensual lips too brilliantly scarlet, so violently do they contrast with her white teeth; her smile almost too passionate. Her upper lip is shaded by the slightest possible streak of brown, and her pink nostrils dilate at each movement of her breast, which rises and falls, as she dances, under her close-fitting "yellak," or jacket of cherry-coloured satin. Two long tresses, tied with red satin ribbon, fall from under her scarlet "fez" and reach below her round, flexible waist, that seems smaller by contrast with her broad hips, under their orange-coloured skirt. Nothing was ever more nimble than her little feet, shod in red morocco slippers embroidered with gold. Anathasia, on the contrary, is petite. Her beautiful fair hair falls in plaits on each side of her cheeks, which are as fresh and rosy as a baby's. Her complexion is dazzlingly fair, and her sweet blue eyes, under their long lashes, seem to reflect all the azure of the Ionian skies. When the ardent Noémi, singing the words of the despairing lover, approaches her with supplicating and passionate gestures, Anathasia's little mouth, as scarlet as a cherry, becomes quite serious, and she assumes a candid and adorable expression of alarmed innocence. She recoils with a frightened look, and clasps her pretty hands, that are as white as ivory. Anathasia is all in white. I had often dreamed of a sylph lightly touching the grass with the tips of its slender feet. Such a fairy is Anathasia, whose tiny proportions are of exquisite refinement. Never was there such a combination of beauty. My fancy had dictated this arrangement, which included all that was lovely in nature. I was young; all this beauty belonged to me; my life was divided between sensual ravishments and the delights of the intellect. What further happiness could I imagine than to live for ever in this enchanting land, forgetful of the past, and hopeful for the future, which must always be as happy; for would not gold ensure me the possession of such wealth as was now before me? I am so completely happy that I feel an imperative need of giving thanks to the power that bestows on me so many blessings. CHAPTER VIII BELIEF ISLE OF KHIOS, October, 18--. I take up my journal again after three months of interruption. I left off at the description of the Carina Palace and its inhabitants,--such a minute description that it was like an architect's working drawing, or a slave merchant's inventory. I consult my moral thermometer. I find myself very well, my head is perfectly clear, and I am cheerful and gay. I feel as though I were dreaming when I look over the pages of my journal that I brought with me from France, and find that I used to be sad, dreamy, and melancholy.