There was a frank directness in
his gaze, and an unconsciousness of self, which
made him very winning, and which could not
fail of its effect upon a girl who, like Augusta,
was fond of the uncommon, and hated smooth,
facile and well-tailored young men, with the
labels of society and fashion upon their coats,
their mustaches, and their speech. And Strand,
with his large sun-burned face, his wild-growing
beard, blue woolen shirt, top boots, and unkempt
appearance generally, was a sufficiently
startling phenomenon to satisfy even so exacting
a fancy as hers; for, after reading his book
about the Wading Birds, she had made up her
mind that he must have few points of resemblance
to the men who had hitherto formed part
of her own small world, although she had not
until now decided just in what way he was to
differ.
"Suppose I help you carry your knapsack,"
said Arnfinn, who was flitting about like a small
nimble spaniel trying to make friends with some
large, good-natured Newfoundland. "You must
be very tired, having roamed about in this
Quixotic fashion!"
"No, I thank you," responded Strand, with
an incredulous laugh, glancing alternately from
Arnfinn to the knapsack, as if estimating their
proportionate weight. "I am afraid you would
rue your bargain if I accepted it."
"I suppose you have a great many stuffed
birds at home," remarked the girl, looking
with self-forgetful admiration at the large
brawny figure.
"No, I have hardly any," answered he,
seating himself on the ground, and pulling a thick
note-book from his pocket.
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