It was a peculiarity of Winston Aylett that he was never discomposed

in seeming, however embarrassing or distressing might be his

position. In his childhood he was one to whom, to use the common

phrase, dirt would not stick. His face was clean and fair, his hands

smooth, and his hair in order after rough and tumble experiences

that sent his companions home begrimed, ragged, and unkempt frights.

To-night, he had ridden a dozen miles in the teeth of the storm, and

made no pause before appearing before his wife and sister, except to

lay off his hat and overcoat in the hall. But had he expected to

encounter a roomful of ladies, his costume could not have been more

unexceptionable.

His linen was pure and fresh, even to the narrow line of wristband

edging his coat sleeve; his clearly cut patrician features were

tranquil in every line and tint; his step was the light, yet

deliberate stride of an athlete without passion or bravado.

Conscious power, inexorable will, and thorough self-command were

stamped upon him from crown to foot, and his salutation to the small

family party accompanied a smile as mirthless and cold as were his

eyes.

Mrs. Aylett advanced a step, not more, and returned the bow that

comprehended all present, with a pleased, not rapturous welcome.

"We were beginning to fear lest you might be wet," she said,

emulating his polite equanimity. Genuine tact is always

chameleon-like in quality. "It rains quite fast, does it not?"

"The storm is increasing, but I experienced no inconvenience from

it, thank you."

He sat down in his favorite arm-chair, and spread his fingers before

the fire.

"I am happy to see you so very much better"--to Herbert. "There were

many kind inquiries for you at the court-house to-day. Dr. Ritchie

wanted to know if you had ever taken nux vomica for these neuralgic

turns. I invited him to come in with me and prescribe for you, but

he said he must push on home, so we parted at the outer gate."

So affable as almost to put others at their ease in his company, he

chatted until supper was announced; regretted civilly Herbert's

inability to go to the table, and gave his sister his arm into the

dining-room, Mrs. Aylett following in their wake. If he did not eat

heartily, he praised, in gentlemanly moderation, the viands selected

by his consort for his delectation after his wet ride, and pleaded a

late dinner as the reason of his present abstinence. Then they

adjourned to the apartment where they had left Mr. Dorrance, and the

host produced his cigar-case.




readonlinefreebook.com Copyright 2016 - 2024