His face, however, was open and manly, if rather stern, and the grey eyes were steady and frank.

It was not the face of a merchant, but rather that of one of good degree, accustomed to camps and war.

For the rest, his figure was well-built and active, and his voice when he spoke, which was seldom, clear and distinct to loudness, but cultivated and pleasant--again, not the voice of a merchant.
Of the lady's figure little could be seen because of the long cloak that hid it, but the face, which appeared within its hood when she turned and the dying sunlight filled her eyes, was lovely indeed, for from her birth to her death-day Margaret Castell--fair Margaret, as she was called--had this gift to a degree that is rarely granted to woman.
Rounded and flower-like was that face, most delicately tinted also, with rich and curving lips and a broad, snow-white brow.

But the wonder of it, what distinguished her above everything else from other beautiful women of her time, was to be found in her eyes, for these were not blue or grey, as might have been expected from her general colouring, but large, black, and lustrous; soft, too, as the eyes of a deer, and overhung by curling lashes of an ebon black.

The effect of these eyes of hers shining above those tinted cheeks and beneath the brow of ivory whiteness was so strange as to be almost startling.