Horse and man both looked thoroughbred.

Tall, strong, and slender, with a keen, dark blue eye, and regular features of a clear, healthy paleness, he--the man--would draw a second glance to himself wherever he might be met.

His face was not inordinately handsome; nothing of the sort; but it wore an air of candour, of noble truth.

A somewhat impassive face in repose, somewhat cold; but, in speaking, it grew expressive to animation, and the frank smile that would light it up made its greatest charm.

The smile stole over it now, as he checked his horse and bent towards Rachel.
"Have they thought me lost?
I suppose dinner is begun ?" "Dinner has been in this half-hour, sir." "All right.