activity; it also showed the burden of constant misfortunes, but not
of any efforts made to surmount them. His cheekbones, which were brown
and prominent amid the general pallor of his skin, showed a physical
structure which was likely to ensure him a long life. His hard,
light-yellow eye fell upon mine like a ray of wintry sun, bright
without warmth, anxious without thought, distrustful without conscious
cause. His mouth was violent and domineering, his chin flat and long.
Thin and very tall, he had the bearing of a gentleman who relies upon
the conventional value of his caste, who knows himself above others by
right, and beneath them in fact. The carelessness of country life had
made him neglect his external appearance. His dress was that of a
country-man whom peasants and neighbors no longer considered except
for his territorial worth. His brown and wiry hands showed that he
wore no gloves unless he mounted a horse, or went to church, and his
shoes were thick and common.

Though ten years of emigration and ten years more of farm-life had
changed his physical condition, he still retained certain vestiges of
nobility. The bitterest liberal (a term not then in circulation) would
readily have admitted his chivalric loyalty and the imperishable
convictions of one who puts his faith to the "Quotidienne"; he would
have felt respect for the man religiously devoted to a cause, honest
in his political antipathies, incapable of serving his party but very
capable of injuring it, and without the slightest real knowledge of
the affairs of France. The count was in fact one of those upright men
who are available for nothing, but stand obstinately in the way of
all; ready to die under arms at the post assigned to them, but
preferring to give their life rather than to give their money.

During dinner I detected, in the hanging of his flaccid cheeks and the