The Works of George W. M. Reynolds — page 62: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE OPERA BOX 45 delineated the roundness of their exquisite modelling, and their dazzling whiteness, as well as that of her splendid bust, outshone even her snowy drapery. One delicately gloved hand held an embroidered kerchiet; the fingers of the other negligently retained the fan, which was more for ornament than for use, as there was nothing artificial, nothing coquettish about this resplendent creature. Her nose was perfectly straight, her countenance classic- ally faultless, with the pure Phidian outline that marks high birth, delineating the short upper lip, the delicately rounded chin, and the high forehead. Her eyes had those almond-shaped orbits which so seldom belong to English beauty, but which are deemed the excelling charm of Italian loveliness, and the pupils, of the deepest, clearest blue, seemed to swim in a field of bluish lustre like that of the finest mother-of-pearl. When her lips parted slightly, in the hushed rapture with which she listened to the glorious tide of song rolling through the house, the teeth of whitest ivory were visible between the vermilion lines of that sweet mouth. Her companion has already been described as dazzlingly fair, but upon the cheeks the white of the lily deepened by degrees into a soft and pure carnation,+which no art could imitate, but which seemed too beautifulto be real. Natural however, it was, and forming not the least bewitching trait of that exceeding beauty which combined so much delicacy and sweetness with such magnificence and gran- deur. Such was Lady Florina Staunton, at that delicious age of nineteen, when, having burst into the glories of a some- what early womanhood, so far as related to the rich develop- ments of her form, she unconsciously, as it were, breathed and looked the innocent voluptuousness of nature in full blow, and as the looks of the observer wandered from charm to charm and from beauty to beauty, it would seem as 1f there were no resting-place for the eye while thus gliding from grace to grace in endless succession. It dared not settle upon the brow, for that was too dazzling; nor upon the eyes, for the heart would be left in their depths; nor upon the lips, for they were too inviting; nor upon the bosom, for that was too pure. In a word, it was impossible for the most indifferent observer, even the veriest anchorite, to contemplate without emotion that enchanting creature in CoOnniclooolkKks (FO)