which had been so toughened by long endurance of poverty and
toil, and a husband who wouldn't work and couldn't be made to
work, that it was no longer a very susceptible organ where
members of the opposite sex were concerned.

Mrs. Reid reflected that this young man had a way with him.

Eric already knew most of the Lindsay folks by sight; but at the
foot of the hill he met two people, a man and a boy, whom he did
not know. They were sitting in a shabby, old-fashioned wagon,
and were watering their horse at the brook, which gurgled
limpidly under the little plank bridge in the hollow.

Eric surveyed them with some curiosity. They did not look in the
least like the ordinary run of Lindsay people. The boy, in
particular, had a distinctly foreign appearance, in spite of the
gingham shirt and homespun trousers, which seemed to be the
regulation, work-a-day outfit for the Lindsay farmer lads. He
had a lithe, supple body, with sloping shoulders, and a lean,
satiny brown throat above his open shirt collar. His head was
covered with thick, silky, black curls, and the hand that hung
down by the side of the wagon was unusually long and slender.
His face was richly, though somewhat heavily featured, olive
tinted, save for the cheeks, which had a dusky crimson bloom.
His mouth was as red and beguiling as a girl's, and his eyes were
large, bold and black. All in all, he was a strikingly handsome
fellow; but the expression of his face was sullen, and he somehow
gave Eric the impression of a sinuous, feline creature basking in
lazy grace, but ever ready for an unexpected spring.