The colour flew into Juliet's cheeks and deepened as she met the frankly admiring glance of Flossie's brother. She hardly knew how she acknowledged the introduction, so conscious was she of those tiresome blushes and the timid fluttering of her heart.
But there was nothing formidable in the appearance of Algernon Chalcombe, unless it were his extreme handsomeness. Juliet saw before her a well-formed, graceful man of middle height, whose dark beauty was well set off by the crimson and black "blazer" which he wore. His black hair was rather long and inclined to curl; he had fine dark lustrous eyes and regular features. The mouth was rather large in proportion to the rest of the face, with full lips, the chin large, full, and rounded. He had been told that he resembled the portraits of Lord Byron, and the suggestion flattered his vanity. He was amply endowed with that commodity, and his countenance revealed its presence, and betrayed tokens too of luxurious, self-indulgent habits.
But Juliet had not the experience that could discern these. She was struck with the graceful bearing and polished ease of the young man. Although his eyes plainly expressed admiration for her, there was no insolence in their gaze. On the contrary, he contrived to infuse into his manner a subtle suggestion of self-depreciation and humility inspired by her presence, and his tone in addressing her was charmingly deferential.
"He is a perfect gentleman," thought Juliet, with a sense of agreeable surprise.
And certainly Algernon Chalcombe lacked none of the externals of a gentleman. It had been his father's ambition to make him such, and his education had been expensive, and therefore presumably good. It had even comprised a sojourn at Oxford, but his career at the University had come to an abrupt termination, and he had reasons for preferring not to speak of that period of his life. At Oxford and elsewhere he had courted the society of men of a higher social standing than his own, and had been quick to catch their tone and learn their habits.
Thus it was that Juliet discerned in him what she took to be tokens of high breeding and superior personal refinement. Having no brother, and belonging to a wholly feminine household, her ideas as to what constitutes a gentleman were perhaps more crude than are those of most girls. Certain it is that Algernon Chalcombe's ready courtesy, his pleasant accent, the well-made garments which he wore with such careless grace, his white hands and polished nails, all combined to produce on her the impression of a personal distinction and innate chivalry befitting a hero of romance. Juliet had read few romances—Hannah had seen to that—but perhaps just because they were so few, those she had read had made the more impression on her vivid imagination.
Flossie was quick to see how Juliet was struck by Algernon's appearance and bearing. She was delighted, for she was very fond of this brother seven years older than herself. She was able to make a hero of him in her way, though she saw him under other aspects than that which he was so studiously presenting to Juliet.
"This is not the first time that I have had the pleasure of seeing you, Miss Tracy," remarked Algernon Chalcombe. "Flossie pointed you out to me at your school concert."
"Yes, so she told me," said Juliet hurriedly, blushing deeply the next moment, as she remembered all Flossie had said when she told her.
He did not appear conscious of her confusion, though in reality, he thought how pretty she looked when she blushed, and what a fresh, naïve, charming little girl she was.