You do not know how weak,
and sick, and changed he is. Just think of his lodging with Mrs. Buncher
in London, and coming out as a second-class passenger."
"Did he do that?" Miss Betsey asked, quickly, while the lines about her
mouth softened as she went up stairs to meet the _dude_, who looked like
anything but a dude as he rose to greet her, in his shabby clothes,
which, nevertheless, were worn with a certain grace which made you
forget their shabbiness, while his manner, though a little constrained,
had in it that air of good breeding and courtesy inseparable from Neil.
Miss Betsey had expected to see him thin and worn, but she was not
prepared for the white, wasted face, which turned so wistfully to her,
or for the expression of the dark eyes so like her brother Hugh,
Archie's father. Hugh had been her favorite brother, the one nearest her
age, with whom she had played and romped in the old garden at
Stoneleigh. He had been with her at Monte Carlo when her lover was
brought to her dead, and in the frightened face which had looked at her
then there was the same look which she saw now in Neil, as he came
slowly forward.
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