Beauty had never been mine , but a faint reflection of it came over me in the tremulous flush and excitement of the moment . Then the maid came up to tell me that Alan Fraser was in the library . I went down with my cold hands tightly clasped behind me . He was standing by the library table , a tall , broad-shouldered man , with the light striking upward on his dark , sensitive face and iron-grey hair . When he saw me he came quickly forward . `` So you know -- and you are not angry -- your letters told me so much . I have loved you since that day in the beech wood , Isobel -- Isobel . '' His eyes were kindling into mine . He held my hands in a close , impetuous clasp . His voice was infinitely caressing as he pronounced my name . I had never heard it since Father died -- I had never heard it at all so musically and tenderly uttered . My ancestors might have turned in their graves just then -- but it mattered not . Living love had driven out dead hatred . `` Isobel , '' he went on , `` there was one letter unanswered -- the last . '' I went to my desk , took out the last letter I had written and gave it to him in silence . While he read it I stood in a shadowy corner and watched him , wondering if life could always be as sweet as this . When he had finished he turned to me and held out his arms . I went to them as a bird to her nest , and with his lips against mine the old feud was blotted out forever . The Life-Book of Uncle Jesse Uncle Jesse ! The name calls up the vision of him as I saw him so often in those two enchanted summers at Golden Gate ; as I saw him the first time , when he stood in the open doorway of the little low-eaved cottage on the harbour shore , welcoming us to our new domicile with the gentle , unconscious courtesy that became him so well .
A tall , ungainly figure , somewhat stooped , yet suggestive of great strength and endurance ; a clean-shaven old face deeply lined and bronzed ; a thick mane of iron-grey hair falling quite to his shoulders ; and a pair of remarkably blue , deep-set eyes , which sometimes twinkled and sometimes dreamed , but oftener looked out seaward with a wistful question XXXXX them , as of one seeking something precious and lost .
against as at if in into of since that to