He was old, but held himself so erect that his head almost touched the lintel of the summer-house door, the posts of which he gripped and so stood framed--a giant of close upon six and a half feet in stature.

He wore a brown holland suit, with grey stockings and square-toed shoes; and at first I mistook him for a Quaker.

His snow-white hair was gathered back from his temples, giving salience to a face of ineffable simplicity and goodness--the face of a man at peace with God and all the world, yet touched with the scars of bygone passions.
"Papa, this is Harry Revel." He bowed with ceremony, a little wide of me.

I saw then that his eyes were sightless.
"I am happy to make your acquaintance, young sir.

My daughter informs me that you are in trouble." "He has promised to tell me all about it," Isabel put in.