She saw a handsome young-looking man, with blue eyes, clear red and white complexion, regular features, a brown beard, and a curious look of laziness in his eyes. They were eyes which showed a repressed power of animation. They lit up at sight of his ward, but not much.
He saw a girl of nineteen, tall, slight, shapely; a girl of fine physique; a girl whose eyes, like her hair, were brown; the former were large and full, but not with the fulness of short-sight; the latter was abundant, and was tossed up in the simplest fashion, which is also the most graceful. Lawrence the lazy felt his pulse quicken a little as this fair creature advanced, with perfect grace and self-possession, to greet him. He noticed that her dress was perfect, that her hands were small and delicate, and that her head was shaped, save for the forehead, which was low and broad, like that of some Greek statue. The Greeks knew the perfect shape of the head, but they made the forehead too narrow. If you think of it, you will find that the Venus of Milo would have been more divine still had her brows been but a little broader.
"My ward?" he said. "Let us make acquaintance, and try to like each other. I am your new guardian."
Phillis looked at him frankly and curiously, letting her hand rest in his.
"When I saw you last—it was twelve years ago—you were a little maid of seven. Do you remember?"
"I think I do; but I am not quite sure. Are you really my guardian?"
"I am indeed. Do I not look like one? To be sure, it is my first appearance in the character."
She shook her head.
"Mr. Dyson was so old," she said, "that I suppose I grew to think all guardians old men."
"I am only getting old," he sighed. "It is not nice to feel yourself going to get old. Wait twenty years, and you will begin to feel the same perhaps. But though I am thirty years younger than Mr. Dyson, I will try to treat you exactly as he did."