His dress was indeed light and careless, but it was the carelessness of breeding, not slovenliness.

His hands were brown, but there were clean white cuffs on his wrist and gold studs; his neck was brown, but his linen spotless.

The face was too delicate, too refined with all its bronze; the frame was well developed, but too active; it lacked the heavy thickness and the lumbering gait of the farmer bred to the plough.

He might have conducted a great financial operation; he might have been the head of a great mercantile house; he might have been on 'Change; but that stiff clay there, stubborn and unimpressionable, was not in his style.
Cecil had gone into farming, in fact, as a 'commercial speculation,' with the view of realising cent.

per cent.