fat, red cheeks were
mottled here and there with little clots of purple veins; and when he
spoke his voice rattled so in his throat that it made one wish to
clear one's own throat to listen to him. So, what with a pair of fat,
white hands, and that hoarse voice, and his swollen face, and his
thick lips sticking out, it seemed to Barnaby True he had never seen a
countenance so distasteful to him as that one into which he then
looked.

But if Sir John Malyoe was so displeasing to our hero's taste, why,
the granddaughter, even this first time he beheld her, seemed to him
to be the most beautiful, lovely young lady that ever he saw. She had
a thin, fair skin, red lips, and yellow hair--though it was then
powdered pretty white for the occasion--and the bluest eyes that
Barnaby beheld in all of his life. A sweet, timid creature, who seemed
not to dare so much as to speak a word for herself without looking to
Sir John for leave to do so, and would shrink and shudder whenever he
would speak of a sudden to her or direct a sudden glance upon her.
When she did speak, it was in so low a voice that one had to bend his
head to hear her, and even if she smiled would catch herself and look
up as though to see if she had leave to be cheerful.

As for Sir John, he sat at dinner like a pig, and gobbled and ate and
drank, smacking his lips all the while, but with hardly a word to
either her or Mrs. Greenfield or to Barnaby True; but with a sour,
sullen air, as though he would say, "Your damned victuals and drink
are no better than they should be, but I must eat 'em or nothing." A
great bloated beast of a man!

Only after dinner was over and the young lady and the two misses sat
off in a corner together did Barnaby hear her talk with any ease.
Then, to be sure, her tongue became loose, and she prattled away at a
great rate, though hardly above her breath, until of a sudden her
grandfather called out, in his hoarse, rattling voice, that it was
time to go. Whereupon she stopped short in what she was saying and
jumped up from her chair, looking as frightened as though she had been
caught in something amiss, and was to be punished for it.

Barnaby True and Mr. Greenfield both went out to see the two into
their coach, where Sir John's man stood holding the lantern. And who
should he be, to be sure, but that same lean villain with bald head
who had offered to shoot the leader of our hero's expedition out on
the harbor that night! For, one of