the high brow narrowed by the thick and curly hair that overhung it, the
small chin and curving mouth, kept still something of the look and the
bloom of the child--a look that was only intensified by the strange force
of expression that was added to the face whenever the lids so constantly
dropped over the eyes were raised. For one saw in it a mingling at once
of sharp observation and of distrust; it seemed to spring from some fiery
source of personality, which at the very moment it revealed itself, yet
warned the spectator back, and stood, half proudly, half sullenly, on the
defensive. Such a look one may often see in the eyes of a poetic and
morbid child.

But the whole aspect was neither delicate nor poetic. For the beauty of
the head was curiously and unexpectedly contradicted by the clumsiness of
the frame below it. "Brother" Williams might have the head of a poet; he
had the form and movements, the large feet and shambling gait, of the
peasant. And Laura, scanning him with some closeness, noticed with
distaste a good many signs of personal slovenliness and ill-breeding. His
hands were not as clean as they might have been; his clerical coat badly
wanted a brushing.

His talk to Augustina could hardly have been more formal. In speaking to
ladies he seldom raised his eyes; and as far as she herself was concerned
Laura was certain, before half an hour was over, that he meant to address
her and to be addressed by her, as little as possible.

Towards Helbeck the visitor's manner was more natural and more
attractive. It was a manner of affection, and great deference; but even
here the occasional bursts of conversation into which the Squire drew his
guest were constantly interrupted by fits of silence or absence on the
part of the scholastic.