The fame
of his personal appearance was more than justified. He was the most
strikingly good-looking man she had ever seen, and to her surprise there
was not the slightest trace of self-consciousness or conceit about him.
His high intellectual forehead, thick black hair inclined to curl at the
ends and straight heavy eyebrows suggested at once a man of brains and
power. He looked older than he was--at least thirty, though he had just
turned twenty-six. The square strong jaw and large chin were eloquent of
reserve force. Two rows of white, perfect teeth smiled behind the black
drooping moustache and invited friendship. The one disquieting feature
about him was the look from the depths of his dark brown eyes--so dark
they were black in shadow. He had been a dreamer when very young and
followed Charles A. Dana to Brook Farm for a brief stay.
Before he had spoken a dozen words the girl felt the charm of his
singular and powerful personality.
"I needn't say that I'm glad to see you, Miss Winter," he began, with a
friendly smile. "Ned has told me so much about you the past month I'd
made up my mind to join the Abolitionists, and apply for a secretaryship
to the Senator if I couldn't manage it any other way."
"And you'll be content to resume a normal life after to-day?"
She looked into his eyes with mischievous challenge.
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