CHAPTER II.
IN WHICH DESTINY WEARS THE COMIC MASK Putting his horse to a canter, Mr.Jonathan Gay rode through the old gate into the turnpike.

His still indignant look was fixed on the heavy wheelruts ahead, while his handsome though fleshy figure inclined slightly forward in the saddle after a foreign fashion.

Seen close at hand his face, which was impressive at a distance, lost a certain distinction of contour, as though the marks of experience had blurred, rather than accentuated, the original type.

The bones of forehead and nose still showed classic in outline, but in moulding the mouth and chin nature had not adhered closely to the aristocratic structure beneath.
The flesh sagged a little in places; the brow was a trifle too heavy, the jaw a trifle too prominent, the lips under the short dark moustache were a trifle too full.

Yet in spite of this coarseness of finish, his face was well coloured, attractive, and full of generous, if whimsical, humour.