A charming bevy of maidens--Philippa, Hawise, Melusine,
Victoria, Sanchia-Josepha; ten years ago happily sisters and rich in
promise, looking out boldly at the veiled years ahead of them. Ten years
ago? Call it eight, and you make our Miss Percival, say, six-and-twenty by
this time.
There are many other photographs--girls and women, most of them; but here
is a man, dignified by a place apart upon the bureau. He occupies one side
of it by himself, balanced by the sisters at the other. A youngish man in
yeomanry uniform he appears only in torso. He has the smooth head of a
soldier, and rather a low, but very square, forehead. His eyes are
smallish, and set deep. They look to be grey, light grey, but may be light
blue. He has a good nose, high-bridged, large, thin, and practically
straight. Such noses are seldom perfectly straight, and his is not. I
observe that he has curled his moustache with the tongs, so that it is
well away from his upper lip. If I had been he I should not have done
that. It is too much trouble--and if a man takes pains about his toilette,
those pains ought not to be evident. Moreover, the mouth is by no means
this young man's best feature. There is a twist, the hint of a snarl in
the upper lip.
Pages:
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65