It Was The Face Of An Aristocrat, Of A Man Of Blue Blood, Or
Of Good Blood, Of An Ancient Family; And In His Manner Too He Was A
Perfect Contrast To His Brother And Friend.
There was no trace of
vulgarity in him; he was not self-conscious, not anxious to shine; he
was modesty itself, and in his speech and manner and appearance he was,
to put it all in one word, a gentleman.
Seeing them together I was more amazed than ever at the fact of their
extraordinary affection for each other, their perfect amity which had
lasted so many years without a rift, which nothing could break, as
people said, except a woman.
But the woman who would break or shatter it had not yet appeared on the
horizon, nor do I know whether she ever appeared or not, since after
leaving the neighbourhood I heard no more of the brothers de la Rosa.
V
A STORY OF LONG DESCENT
It was rudely borne in upon me that there was another side to the
shield. I was too much immersed in my own thoughts to note the peculiar
character of the small remote old-world town I came to in the
afternoon; next day was Sunday, and on my way to the church to attend
morning service, it struck me as one of the oldest-looking of the small
old towns I had stumbled upon in my rambles in this ancient land. There
was the wide vacant space where doubtless meetings had taken place for
a thousand years, and the steep narrow crooked medieval streets, and
here and there some stately building rising like a castle above the
humble cottage houses clustering round it as if for protection.
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