With his riding breeches, leather leggings (an article of apparel never before seen in Costaguana), a Norfolk coat of grey flannel, and those great flaming moustaches, he suggested an officer of cavalry turned gentleman farmer.
This combination was gratifying to Mrs.Gould's tastes.

"How thin the poor boy is!" she thought.

"He overworks himself." But there was no denying that his fine-drawn, keen red face, and his whole, long-limbed, lank person had an air of breeding and distinction.

And Mrs.Gould relented.
"I only wondered what you felt," she murmured, gently.
During the last few days, as it happened, Charles Gould had been kept too busy thinking twice before he spoke to have paid much attention to the state of his feelings.

But theirs was a successful match, and he had no difficulty in finding his answer.
"The best of my feelings are in your keeping, my dear," he said, lightly; and there was so much truth in that obscure phrase that he experienced towards her at the moment a great increase of gratitude and tenderness.
Mrs.Gould, however, did not seem to find this answer in the least obscure.