He came back to the remembrance of her presence and glancing at her,
murmured:

"Oh--ah, no--that is, yes--strong, only with cream and sugar. Thanks
awfully."

But Halcyone did not rise to hand it to him, so he was obliged to get up
and take it from where she sat. She perceived then that though extremely
thin he was lithe and well-shaped. And in spite of her unconquered
prejudice, she was obliged to own she liked his steely gray hawk-like
eyes and his fine, rather ascetic, clean-shaven face. He did not look at
her specially. He may have taken in a small, pale visage and masses of
mouse-colored hair and slender legs--but nothing struck him particularly
except her feet. As his eyes dropped to the ground he caught sight of
them; they were singularly perfect feet. He admired points in man or
beast--and when he had returned to his old place stretched out under the
apple tree, he still glanced at them now and then; they satisfied his
eye.

"What have you been doing in these days, Halcyone?" Mr. Carlyon asked.
"I have not seen you since Monday morning. Have you been getting into
any mischief?"

Halcyone reluctantly admitted that she had not. There was, she
explained, very little chance of any of an agreeable kind coming her way
at La Sarthe Chase. She had been gardening with William--they had quite
tidied the top terrace--and she had been reading French with Aunt
Roberta, but the book was great nonsense.