190 THE FAT OF THE LAND 
was tall (considerably above the average height}, 
slender, straight as an arrow, graceful in repose 
and in motion. She carried herself like a queen, 
with a proud kind of shyness that became her well. 
Her head was small and well set on a slender neck, 
her hair dark, luxurious, wavy, and growing 
low over a broad forehead, her eyes soft brown, 
shaded by heavy brows and lashes. She had a 
Grecian nose, and her mouth was a shade too 
wide, but it was guarded by singularly perfect 
and sensitive lips. Her chin was pronounced 
enough to give the impression of firmness; in- 
deed, save for the soft eyes and sensitive mouth, 
firmness predominated. She was not a great 
talker, yet every one loved to listen to her. 
She laughed with her eyes and lips, but rarely 
with her voice. She enjoyed intensely, and 
could, therefore, suffer intensely. She was a 
dear girl in every way. 
All was now ready for the début of Jack’s 
paragon. Jack had driven to the station to 
fetch him, and presently the sound of wheels on 
the gravel drive announced the arrival of the 
last guest. I went into the hall to meet the 
men. 
«Daddy, I want you to know my chum, Jim 
Jarvis, — the finest all-round son of old Eli. 
Jarvis, this is my daddy, — the finest father that 
ever had son!” 
«Tm right glad to meet you, Mr. Jarvis; your 
renown has preceded you,” 
