The high cheek-bones, large nose, and
slightly protruding eyes had an unfinished air about them, as if their
owner had escaped prematurely from a mould. A quantity of bushy black
hair--which he wore longer than most men-enhanced the dramatic air of his
appearance. It was a face full of vigour and a kind of strength,
shrewd, a little coarse, and solemn almost to the farcical. He was
introduced in a rush of words by the hostess, but beyond the fact that
it was a monosyllable, Alice did not catch his name.
Lord Manorwater took in Miss Afflint, and Alice fell to the dark man
with the monosyllabic name. He had a way of bowing over his hand which
slightly repelled the girl, who had no taste for elaborate manners. His
first question, too, displeased her. He asked her if she was one of the
Wisharts of some unpronounceable place.
She replied briefly that she did not know. Her grandfathers on both
sides had been farmers.
The gentleman bowed with the smiling unconcern of one to whom pedigree
is a matter of course.
"I have heard often of your father," he said. "He is one of the local
supports of the party to which I have the honour to belong. He
represents one great section of our retainers, our host another. I am
glad to see such friendship between the two." And he smiled elaborately
from Alice to Lord Manorwater.
Alice was uncomfortable.
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