It was the conversation of a man who, besides the knowledge which is acquired from books and life, had studied the art which becomes a gentleman,--that of pleasing in polite society.
The result was that all were charmed with him; and that even Captain Barnabas postponed the whist-table for a full hour after the usual time.
The doctor did not play; he thus became the property of the two ladies, Miss Jemima and Mrs.Dale.
Seated between the two, in the place rightfully appertaining to Flimsey, who this time was fairly dislodged, to her great wonder and discontent, the doctor was the emblem of true Domestic Felicity, placed between Friendship and Love.
Friendship, as became her, worked quietly at the embroidered pocket-handkerchief and left Love to more animated operations.
"You must be very lonely at the Casino," said Love, in a sympathizing tone.
"Madam," replied Riccabocca, gallantly, "I shall think so when I leave you." Friendship cast a sly glance at Love; Love blushed, or looked down on the carpet,--which comes to the same thing.

"Yet," began Love again,--"yet solitude to a feeling heart--" Riccabocca thought of the note of invitation, and involuntarily buttoned his coat, as if to protect the individual organ thus alarmingly referred to.
"Solitude to a feeling heart has its charms.

It is so hard even for us poor ignorant women to find a congenial companion--but for YOU!" Love stopped short, as if it had said too much, and smelt confusedly at its bouquet.
Dr.Riccabocca cautiously lowered his spectacles, and darted one glance which, with the rapidity and comprehensiveness of lightning, seemed to envelop and take in, as it were, the whole inventory of Miss Jemima's personal attractions.

Now Miss Jemima, as I have before observed, had a mild and pensive expression of countenance; and she would have been positively pretty had the mildness looked a little more alert, and the pensiveness somewhat less lackadaisical.

In fact, though Miss Jemima was constitutionally mild, she was not de natura pensive; she had too much of the Hazeldean blood in her veins for that sullen and viscid humour called melancholy, and therefore this assumption of pensiveness really spoiled her character of features, which only wanted to be lighted up by a cheerful smile to be extremely prepossessing.