Page:Lippincotts Monthly Magazine-39.djvu/44

34 congenital cheerfulness of his disposition is doubtless a great sanative agency.

Meantime, he is as handsome as the heart of woman could desire. If his traits of either mind or body were a bit less masculine than they are, he would be too handsome,—a mere lady's-man. But, whatever else may be said about Henry, he is a man, — a thorough male creature. There is not a feminine fibre in him; even the tenderness that ever and anon informs his tone and manner is of a wholly masculine quality. His voice is a sort of muffled bass, as uncommon as it is winning; and his laugh is irresistibly humorous and contagious. I wish nature had given me such a laugh!

In figure he is well set up, not too tall; but one can see he is less athletic than he was four years ago. In every aspect he has distinction,—the mark of a gentleman. One feels certain, as soon as one sets eyes on him, that under no possible circumstances could he be guilty of a low-bred or vulgar manifestation. And yet he could forsake a woman!

Sinfire being out of the room, John tramped restlessly up and down, smoking a cigar (which, of late, he has substituted for his pipe) and putting an occasional word into the conversation; while mother sat by, looking more like a Rembrandt than ever, listening, inquiring, and complacent, with a bit of embroidery in her hands. Henry sat in an easy-chair, carelessly but faultlessly dressed, talking easily and picturesquely, addressing himself now to one, now to another, making scene after scene rise before us, often yielding to that delicious laugh; but I could not help wondering, all the time, whether his thoughts were with us at all, or with what he was saying. Were they not with that dark-haired girl up-stairs? and was he glad, or sorry, or apprehensive? Surprised I w^as sure he must be; and I did not believe he could be indifferent.

It got to be late. Mother rose at last and bade us good-night, giving Henry both her cheeks to kiss; John sat for a while longer, doggedly yawning the top of his head off; but finally he too succumbed and went off. Henry was always a late bird, and now he seems to think that night was made for anything but sleep. So, in order to be more at our ease, he and I went over to my apartment and disposed ourselves comfortably in the library.

"Did you notice that pretty cousin of ours, Henry?" said I.

"Rather: a thorough-bred beauty, I call her. A bit reserved, though; but that'll soon wear off. You and Jack are both in love with her, of course?"

"Of course. But she hasn't returned our passion, yet. Perhaps her heart was touched before she came here."