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Page 2
Stella was thrilling all over and her soft brown eyes were
sparkling and her dazzlingly pink and white complexion glowing
with health and excitement, so that even in the Exminster
confection of black grenadine she was an agreeable morsel for the
male eye to dwell upon.
There were the usual company there: the younger diplomats from the
Embassies; a sprinkling of trim Italian officers in their pretty
uniforms; French and Austrian ladies; as well as the attractive-
looking native and American representatives of the elite of Roman
society.
The tables began to fill up before the Ebleys had finished their
fish, and numbers of the parties seemed to know one another and
nod and exchange words en passant.
But there was one table laid for a single person which remained
empty until the entrees were being handed, and Stella, with her
fresh interest in the whole scene, wondered for whom it was
reserved.
He came in presently--and he really merits a descriptive paragraph
all to himself.
He was a very tall man and well made, with broad shoulders and a
small head. His evening clothes, though beautifully pressed, with
that look which only a thoroughly good valet knows how to stamp
upon his master's habiliments as a daily occurrence, were of
foreign cut and hand, and his shirt, unstarched, was of the finest
pleated cambric.
These trifles, however, were not what rendered him remarkable, but
that his light brown hair was worn parted in the middle and waved
back a la vierge with a rather saintly expression, and was
apparently just cut off in a straight line at the back. This was
quite peculiar-looking enough--and in conjunction with a young,
silky beard, trimmed into a sharp point with the look of an
archaic Greek statue, he presented a type not easily forgotten.
The features were regular and his eyes were singularly calm and
wise and blue.
It seemed incredible that such an almost grotesque arrangement of
coiffure should adorn the head of a man in modern evening dress.
It should have been on some Byzantine saint. However, there he
was, and entirely unconcerned at the effect he was producing.
The waiters, who probably knew his name and station, precipitated
themselves forward to serve him, and with leisurely mien he
ordered a recherche dinner and a pint of champagne.
Stella Rawson was much interested and so were her uncle and aunt.
"What a very strange-looking person," Mrs. Ebley said. "Of what
nation can he be? Erasmus, have you observed him?"
Canon Ebley put on his pince-nez and gave the newcomer the benefit
of a keen scrutiny.
"I could not say with certainty, my dear. A northerner evidently--
but whether Swedish or Danish it would be difficult to determine,"
he announced.
"He does not appear to know he is funny-looking," Stella Rawson
said, timidly. "Do you notice, Aunt Caroline, he does not look
about him at all, he has never glanced in any direction; it is as
if he were alone in the room."
"A very proper behavior," the Aunt Caroline replied severely, "but
he cannot be an Englishman--no Englishman would enter a public
place, having made himself remarkable like that, and then be able
to sit there unaware of it; I am glad to say our young men have
some sense of convention. You cannot imagine Eustace Medlicott
perfectly indifferent to the remarks he would provoke if he were
tricked out so."
Stella felt a sudden sympathy for the foreigner. She had heard so
ceaselessly of her fiance's perfections!
"Perhaps they wear the hair like that in his country," she
returned, with as much spirit as she dared to show. "And he may
think we all look funny, as we think he does. Only he seems to be
much better mannered than we are, because he is quite sure of
himself and quite unconscious or indifferent about our opinion."
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