CHAPTER III

THE VISITOR


The new-comer at the Big House was a well-looking figure as he
advanced up the path toward the white-pillared galleries. In height
just above middle stature, and of rather spare habit of body, alert,
compact and vigorous, he carried himself with a half-military self-
respect, redeemed from aggressiveness by an open candor of face and
the pleasant, forthright gaze of kindly blue-gray eyes. In spite of a
certain gravity of mien, his eyes seemed wont to smile upon occasion,
as witnessed divers little wrinkles at the corners. He was smooth-
shaven, except for a well-trimmed dark mustache; the latter offering
a distinct contrast to the color of his hair, which, apparently not
in full keeping with his years, was lightly sprinkled with gray. Yet
his carriage was assuredly not that of middle age, and indeed, the
total of his personality, neither young nor old, neither callow nor
acerb, neither lightly unreserved nor too gravely severe, offered
certain problems not capable of instant solution. A hurried observer
might have guessed his age within ten years but might have been wrong
upon either side, and might have had an equal difficulty in
classifying his residence or occupation.

Whatever might be said of this stranger, it was evident that he was
not ill at ease in this environment; for as he met coming around the