Tall, slender, of dark complexion, with large deep eyes that carried the wistful look of a child mingled with the unconscious strength and power of youth, he was that type of man that women instinctively love. Had not it been for the extreme stereotyped manner in which he dealt with the people about him, he might have been a hero to more than one heart. If he ever showed any side of his nature, it was the majestic that appeared, and that resented pressing familiarity. But before one person he had been unarmed of all save the emotional youth. His fellows' and Madeline's friends had thought him proud, but he cared not; it was sufficient for him that one person had not thought him so. He and Madeline were soon to have been married. Their approach to this great event had opened a world of thought that neither dreamed existed within them. But now a great shadow had settled over the brightness of the vista that had lain before him. His taciturnity was of the kind that carried with it a restless inner grief that made those who loved him fearful of his actions.
