tle　shocked　at　the　irregularity　of　my　lineaments；　his　own　being　so　harmonious。　His　eyes　were　large　and　blue；　with　brown　lashes；　his　high　forehead；　colourless　as　ivory；　was　partially　streaked　over　by　careless　locks　of　fair　hair。

This　is　a　gentle　delineation；　is　it　not；　reader？　Yet　he　whom　it　describes　scarcely　impressed　one　with　the　idea　of　a　gentle；　a　yielding；　an　impressible；　or　even　of　a　placid　nature。　Quiescent　as　he　now　sat；　there　was　something　about　his　nostril；　his　mouth；　his　brow；　which；　to　my　perceptions；　indicated　elements　within　either　restless；　or　hard；　or　eager。　He　did　not　speak　to　me　one　word；　nor　even　direct　to　me　one　glance；　till　his　sisters　returned。　Diana；　as　she　passed　in　and　out；　in　the　course　of　preparing　tea；　brought　me　a　little　cake；　baked　on　the　top　of　the　oven。

“Eat　that　now；”　she　said：　“you　must　be　hungry。　Hannah　says　you　have　had　nothing　but　some　gruel　since　breakfast。”

I　did　not　refuse　it；　for　my　appetite　was　awakened　and　keen。　Mr。　Rivers　now　closed　his　book；　approached　the　table；　and；　as　he　took　a　seat；　fixed　his　blue　pictorial…looking　eyes　full　on　me。　There　was　an　unceremonious　directness；　a　searching；　decided　steadfastness　in　his　gaze　now；　which　told　that　intention；　and　not　diffidence；　had　hitherto　kept　it　averted　from　the　stranger。

“You　are　very　hungry；”　he　said。

“I　am；　sir。”　It　is　my　way—it　always　was　my　way；　by　instinct—ever　to　meet　the　brief　with　brevity；　the　direct　with　plainness。

“It　is　well　for　you