n his attitude, for the native
unrest of the man asserted itself in spite of weariness or any soothing
influence of time or place. Moor was much slighter, and betrayed in
every gesture the unconscious grace of the gentleman born. A most
attractive face, with its broad brow, serene eyes, and the cordial smile
about the mouth. A sweet, strong nature, one would say, which, having
used life well had learned the secret of a true success. Inward
tranquillity seemed his, and it was plain to see that no wave of sound,
no wandering breath, no glimpse of color, no hint of night or nature was
without its charm and its significance for him.

"Tell me about that man, Mark. I have heard you speak of him since you
came home, but supposing he was some blowzy artist, I never cared to ask
about him. Now I've seen him, I want to know more," said Sylvia, as her
brother laid himself down after an approving glance at the group
opposite.

"I met him in Munich, when I first went abroad, and since then we have
often come upon each other in our wanderings. He never writes, but goes
and comes intent upon his own affairs; yet one never can forget him, and
is always glad to feel the grip of his hand again, it seems to put such
life and courage into one."

"Is he good?" asked Sylvia, womanlike, beginning with the morals.

"Violently virtuous. He is a masterful soul, bent on living out his
beliefs and aspirations at any cost. Much given to denunciation of
wrong-doing everywhere, and eager to execute justice upon all offenders
high or low. Yet he possesses great nobility of character, great
audacity of mind, and leads a life of the sternest integrity."

"Is he rich?"

"In his own eyes, because he makes his wants so few."

"Is he married?"

"No; he has no family, and not many friends, for he says what he means
in the bluntest English, and few stand the test his sincerity applies."

"What does he do in the world?"

"Studies it, as we do books; dives into everything, analyzes character,
and builds up his own with materials which will last. If that's not
genius it's something better."

"Then he will do much good and be famous, won't he?"

"Great good to many, but never will be famous, I fear. He is too fierce
an iconoclast to suit the old party, too individual a reformer to join
the new, and being born a century too soon must bide his time, or play
out his part before stage and audience are ready for him."

"Is he learned?"

"Very, in un