’ A sudden frown sprang to the fellow’s face. They were enormously pleased with one another; they found each other beyond measure better than they had expected, if only because of the want of substance in mere expectation. Suspicion was in his face. “I remember when you walked me home. He reached over and took her hand. He could not doubt it. Gay," he added, turning to the poet. Stanley coughed and faced toward the house. Evidently in the flower of his age, he was scarcely less remarkable for symmetry of person than for comeliness of feature; and, though his attire was plain and unpretending, it was such as could be worn only by one belonging to the higher ranks of society.
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