Penny Blood Serial Fiction — page 201: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

CHAPTER XX A NIGHT AT THE VILLA Mr. CLARENDON was about fifty-four years of age, tall in person, and of aristocratic appearance. His countenance was severe and even haughty in expression; and yet there was an indelible stamp of melancholy upon the lofty brow. His face was thin, his features were sharp and angular, and his complexion was sallow. His eyes were small, dark, and steadfast in their look: they were not piercing, and yet, when their gaze fell fully upon the countenance of an in- dividual, they seemed capable of reading his very soul. His hair was of an iron-gray deepening into blackness, or rather retaining its pristine hue at the whiskers, which were thin but dark. His lips were small and usually compressed, as if he were accustomed to long intervals of profound thought; and care had traced its lines on either side of his mouth. Somewhat spare in person, his figure was nevertheless well knit and genteel; and though it was slightly bowed, the cause. was the same that had left the shade upon his fore- head and had marked the wrinkles on his countenance. For his was one of those vigorous constitutions and iron frames which appear to defy the lapse of years, and which Time, as if resolved not to be defeated in its universal ravages, had therefore employed Sorrow to undermine. We have already stated that he had done his duty as a good father toward his motherless daughters, and he loved them tenderly. It was true that misfortunes had somewhat soured his temper, and rendered him easy to be irritated; but he seldom spoke unnecessarily a sharp word to his chil- dren, or, if he did, he made amends by a deeper demonstra- tion of affection afterward. Naturally taciturn and re- served, he was accustomed to pass hours together in the 184 (e(@) m Gomichbooks