The minister had spoken well of him; the others did not know him, or spoke cautiously; and Mrs.Owen herself seemed, during Ware's last speech, to be a trifle restless.

She addressed some irrelevant remark to the admiral as they rose and adjourned to the long side veranda where the men lighted cigars.
"I think I like this corner best," remarked Ware when the others had disposed themselves.

"Miss Sylvia, won't you sit by me ?" She watched his face as the match flamed to his cigar.

It was deep-lined and rugged, with high cheek bones, that showed plainly when he shut his jaws.

It occurred to Sylvia that but for his mustache his face would have been almost typically Indian.