His face was deeply browned by the gulf breezes and was attractive rather than handsome , while his eyes , as blue and clear as the gulf waters , were peculiarly honest and frank . Two wiry , dark-faced French-Canadian boys were perched on one of the boats , watching the fishing fleet with lazy interest in their inky-black eyes , and wondering if the `` Yanks '' had seined many mackerel that day . Presently three people came down the steep path from the fish-houses . One of them , a girl , ran lightly forward and touched Benjamin Selby 's arm . He lowered his glass with a start and looked around . A flash of undisguised delight transfigured his face . `` Why , Mary Stella ! I did n't expect you 'd be down this hot day . You have n't been much at the shore lately , '' he added reproachfully . `` I really have n't had time , Benjamin , '' she answered carelessly , as she took the glass from his hand and tried to focus it on the fishing fleet . Benjamin steadied it for her ; the flush of pleasure was still glowing on his bronzed cheek , `` Are the mackerel biting now ? '' `` Not just now . Who is that stranger with your father , Mary Stella ? '' `` That is a cousin of ours -- a Mr. Braithwaite . Are you very busy , Benjamin ? '' `` Not busy at all -- idle as you see me . Why ? '' `` Will you take me out for a little row in the dory ? I have n't been out for so long . '' `` Of course .
Come -- here 's the XXXXX -- your namesake , you know .
Benjamin Braithwaite French-Canadian Selby Stella course day dory face fish-houses