common-place man. Certainly he had no such face as had held her
glance for more than an instant as the afternoon train began to move
from the depot platform. Percy was slightly above the average height
and solidly built, but he was not tall. His face had often been
described as a "perfect blank." No one saw anything of what lay
within by merely looking into his eyes, and yet there was a certain
indescribable something that appealed to one from those eyes. An
elderly German lady once remarked to his mother: "Ihr Sohn hat so
etwas gutes im Auge."

Percy was not polished in manner, Adelaide admitted. Professor
Barstow had said that he deliberated for half an hour as to whether
he should bring his "cawds," for use on Thanksgiving day, because he
feared that the custom in "Vi'ginia" might not be the same as in
"No'th Cahlina"; while she doubted very much if Percy had any cards
whatever. She had never heard it said that he was "strong as an ox
and quick as lightning," but perhaps she knew it as well as his
schoolmates ever had. She had not heard that one of the college
professors, noted for his short-cut expressions, had once told his
class that he wished they would all "keep their thinking apparatus
in as good repair as Johnston's." One thing she did know was that
Percy's voice had been trained to talk to a woman, and that no other
voice had ever spoken her name as he did. Reserve force? depth of
manhood? confidence in his own words? absolute decision? wealth of
tenderness? persistent endurance? unfailing loyalty? boundless
affection? Deep in her heart Adelaide felt that these were among the
attributes revealed in Percy's voice. When he spoke all listened.
His voice was low-pitched but rich in tone and volume and
sincerity,--that was the word.--The whole man seemed to feel and
speak when he spoke. He surely can have no secrets. His mother must