.
MacGentle aware of this curious fact? There sometimes is a sadly
humorous curving of the lips and glimmering in the eyes after he has
uttered something especially profound, which almost warrants the
suspicion. The lack of accord between the old gentleman and the world
has become to him, at last, a dreary sort of jest.

But we might go on forever touching the elusive chords of Mr.
MacGentle's being; one cannot help loving him, or, if he be not real
enough to love, bestowing upon him such affection as is inspired by
some gentle symphony. Unfortunately, he figures but little in the
coming pages, and in no active part; such, indeed, were unsuited to
him. But it is pleasant to pass through his retired little office on
our way to scenes less peaceful and subdued; and we would gladly look
forward to seeing him once more, when the heat of the day is over and
the sun has gone down.

V.

A NEW MAN WITH AN OLD FACE.

About an hour before noon on this same twenty-seventh of May, Mr. Dyke
heard a voice in the outer room. He had held his position in the house
as confidential clerk for nearly or quite twenty-five years, was
blessed with a good memory, and was fond of saying that he never
forgot a face or a voice. So, as this voice from the outer room
reached his ears, he turned one eye up towards the door and muttered,
"Heard that before, somewhere!"

The ground-glass panel darkened, and the door was thrown wide open.
Upon the threshold stood a young man about six feet in height, of
figure rather graceful and harmonious than massive. A black velveteen
jacket fitted closely to his shape; he had on a Tyrolese hat; his
boots, of thin, pliant leather, reached above the knee. He carried a
stout cane, with a handle of chamois-horn; to a couple of straps,
crossing each shoulder, were attached a travelling-scrip and a
telescope-case.

But neither his attire nor the unusual size and dark brilliancy of
his eyes was so noticeable as his hair and beard, which outgrew the
bounds of common experience. Beards, to be sure, were far more rare
twenty years ago than they have since become. The hair was yellow,
with the true hyacinthine curl pervading it. Rejoicing in luxuriant
might, it clothed and reclothed the head, and, descending lower,
tumbled itself in bold masses on the young man's shoulders. As for the
beard, it was well in keeping. Of a purer yellow than the hair, it
twisted down in crisp, vigorous waves below the point marke