`` Wire me if you can come ; and if you can , report for duty on the twenty-third of May . '' Mr. Marshall , Senior , came in , just as Eric was thoughtfully folding up his letter . The former looked more like a benevolent old clergyman or philanthropist than the keen , shrewd , somewhat hard , although just and honest , man of business that he really was . He had a round , rosy face , fringed with white whiskers , a fine head of long white hair , and a pursed-up mouth . Only in his blue eyes was a twinkle that would have made any man who designed getting the better of him in a bargain think twice before he made the attempt . It was easily seen that Eric must have inherited his personal beauty and distinction of form from his mother , whose picture hung on the dark wall between the windows . She had died while still young , when Eric was a boy of ten . During her lifetime she had been the object of the passionate devotion of both her husband and son ; and the fine , strong , sweet face of the picture was a testimony that she had been worthy of their love and reverence . The same face , cast in a masculine mold , was repeated in Eric ; the chestnut hair grew off his forehead in the same way ; his eyes were like hers , and in his grave moods they held a similar expression , half brooding , half tender , in their depths . Mr. Marshall was very proud of his son 's success in college , but he had no intention of letting him see it . He loved this boy of his , with the dead mother 's eyes , better than anything on earth , and all his hopes and ambitions were bound up in him . `` Well , that fuss is over , thank goodness , '' he said testily , as he dropped into his favourite chair . `` Did n't you find the programme interesting ? '' asked Eric absently . `` Most of it was tommyrot , '' said his father . `` The only things I liked were Charlie 's Latin prayer and those pretty little girls trotting up to get their diplomas . Latin IS the language for praying in , I do believe , -- at least , when a man has a voice like Old Charlie 's . There was such a sonorous roll to the words that the mere sound of them made me feel like getting down on my marrow bones . And then those girls were as pretty as pinks , now were n't they ? Agnes was the finest-looking of the lot in my opinion .
I hope it 's true XXXXX you 're courting her , Eric ? ''
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