As the mind and feelings of Penelope Primrose were impelled in different directions by her natural constitution, and by her accidental situation, a greater degree of interest was thus attached to her character. There is in our nature a feeling, from whatever source arising, which loves not monotony, but delights in contrast. The tear which is always flowing moves not our sympathy so strongly as that which struggles through a smile; and the sun never shines so sweetly as when it gleams through the drops of an April shower. To introduce a female character without some description of person, is almost unprecedented, though it might not be injudicious; seeing that then the imagination of the reader might fill the vacant niche with whatever outward, visible form might be best calculated to rouse his attention, to fix his sympathies, and to please his recollections. But we are not of sufficient authority to make precedents. Let it be explicitly said, that Penelope Primrose exceeded the middle stature, that her dark blue eyes were shaded by a deep and graceful fringe, that her complexion was somewhat too pale for beauty, but that its paleness was not perceptible as a defect whenever a smile illumined her countenance, and developed the dimples that lurked in her cheek and under-lip. Her features were regular, her gait exceedingly graceful, and her voice musical in the highest degree. Seldom, indeed, would she indulge in the pleasure of vocal music, but when she did, as was sometimes the case to please the Countess of Smatterton, her ladyship, who was a most excellent judge, used invariably to pronounce Miss Primrose as the finest and purest singer that she had ever heard. More than once indeed the Countess had recommended Penelope to adopt the musical profession as a sure and ready means of acquiring independence; but the young lady had scruples, and so had her uncle. CHAPTER II.