Before long the stair door of the sitting-room opened, and there he stood.

We stared at him.

Of course he was bathed, and in clean clothing to start with, but he had washed and brushed some more, until he shone.

His cheeks were as smooth and as clear pink as any girl's, his eyes blue-gray and big, with long lashes and heavy brows.
His hair was bright brown and wavy, and he was so big and broad.

He never had been sick a day in his life, and he didn't look as if he ever would be.
And clothes DO make a difference.