possibility of that early enthusiasm; he had fine eyes full of
subdued tenderness, and something youthful, impulsive, in his
expression when he uttered a thought. Good-humoured, often merry,
abounding in kindness and generosity, he passed for a man as happy
as he was prosperous; yet those who talked intimately with him
obtained now and then a glimpse of something not quite in harmony
with these characteristics, a touch of what would be called
fancifulness, of uncertain spirits. Men of his world knew that he
was not particularly shrewd in commerce; the great business to which
his name was attached had been established by his father, and was
kept flourishing mainly by the energy of his younger brother. As an
occasional lecturer before his townsfolk, he gave evidence of wide
reading and literary aptitudes. Of three children of his first
marriage, two had died; his profound grief at their loss, and the
inclination for domestic life which always appeared in the man, made
it matter for surprise that he had waited so long before taking
another wife. It would not have occurred to most of those who knew
him that his extreme devotion to women made him shy, diffident, all
but timorous in their presence. But Piers Otway, for all his mental
disturbance at this moment, remarked the singular deference, the
tone and look of admiring gentleness, with which Mr. Jacks turned to
his wife as he presented their guest.

Mrs. Jacks was well fitted to inspire homage. Her age appeared to be
less than five-and-twenty; she was of that tall and gracefully
commanding height which became the English ideal in the last quarter
of the century--her portrait appears on every page illustrated by
Du Manner. She had a brilliant complexion, a perfect profile; her
smile, though perhaps a little mechanical, was the last expression
of immutable sweetness, of impeccable self-control; her voice never