For his age--Jean knew that he was thirty-five, and had expected something much more mature--he seemed oddly boyish.

He had an expectant young look in his eyes, as if he were always waiting for some chance of adventure to turn up, and there were humorous lines about his mouth which seemed to say that he found the world a very funny place, and was exceedingly well amused.
He certainly seemed very much at home at The Rigs, fondling the rare old books with the hands of a book lover, inspecting the coloured prints, chaffing Jock and Mhor, who fawned round him like two puppy dogs.

Peter had at once made friends with him, and Mrs.M'Cosh, coming into the room on some errand, edged her way out backwards, her eyes fixed on the newcomer with an approving stare.

As she told Jean later: "For a' Andra pit me against lords, I canna see muckle wrang wi' this yin.

A rale pleasant fellow I tak' him to be, lord or no lord.