The presence of a third person seemed, in some degree, to relieve Lord
Harry. He ran upstairs to salute Mrs. Vimpany, and was met again by a
cold reception and a hostile look.
Strongly and strangely contrasted, the two confronted each other on the
stairs. The faded woman, wan and ghastly under cruel stress of mental
suffering, stood face to face with a fine, tall, lithe man, in the
prime of his heath and strength. Here were the bright blue eyes, the
winning smile, and the natural grace of movement, which find their own
way to favour in the estimation of the gentler sex. This irreclaimable
wanderer among the perilous by-ways of the earth--christened "Irish
blackguard," among respectable members of society, when they spoke of
him behind his back--attracted attention, even among the men. Looking
at his daring, finely-formed face, they noticed (as an exception to a
general rule, in these days) the total suppression, by the razor, of
whiskers, moustache, and beard. Strangers wondered whether Lord Harry
was an actor or a Roman Catholic priest. Among chance acquaintances,
those few favourites of Nature who are possessed of active brains,
guessed that his life of adventure might well have rendered disguise
necessary to his safety, in more than one part of the world.
Pages:
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163