"Have you, Dora? Where?"
"Sitting on the rocks, taking a portrait of the sea."
"What makes you say he was a nice gentleman?"
"He had such beautiful boots!" answered Dora, at which there was a great laugh about the table.
"O! we must run and tell Connie that," said Harry. "It will make her laugh."
"What will you tell Connie, then, Harry?"
"O! what was it, Charlie? I've forgotten."
Another laugh followed at Harry's expense now, and we were all very merry, when Dora, who sat opposite to the window, called out, clapping her hands—
"There's Niceboots again! There's Niceboots again!"
The same moment the head of a young man appeared over the wall that separated the garden from the little beach that lay by the entrance of the canal. I saw at once that he must be more than ordinarily tall to show his face, for he was not close to the wall. It was a dark countenance, with a long beard, which few at that time wore, though now it is getting not uncommon, even in my own profession—a noble, handsome face, a little sad, with downbent eyes, which, released from their more immediate duty towards nature, had now bent themselves upon the earth.