She leaned upon the taffrail, looking out towards the receding land, and it was a moment before she answered in a steady, level voice: "I saw him often.

I knew him very well." "Ye don't say!" His lordship was slightly moved out of an imperturbability that he had studiously cultivated.

He was a young man of perhaps eight-and-twenty, well above the middle height in stature and appearing taller by virtue of his exceeding leanness.

He had a thin, pale, rather pleasing hatchet-face, framed in the curls of a golden periwig, a sensitive mouth and pale blue eyes that lent his countenance a dreamy expression, a rather melancholy pensiveness.

But they were alert, observant eyes notwithstanding, although they failed on this occasion to observe the slight change of colour which his question had brought to Miss Bishop's cheeks or the suspiciously excessive composure of her answer.
"Ye don't say!" he repeated, and came to lean beside her.