feet of height and broad shoulders, his strong well-modelled arms and legs, saved him from the charge of a too feminine beauty.
His expression was open and simple, and his bearing frank and natural. There was a tendency to dreaminess in the face, concerning whose beauty he honestly neither thought nor cared. His cousin Gladys had told him that a beautiful woman who was not vain was a rara avis indeed, but that a handsome man without vanity was a creature too unnatural, too absolutely sui generis, to be popular among men or women.
Charles Farwell and Gladys Carleton were of a convenient kinship, being second cousins. A second cousin may always be that dimly anticipated "Fate" which haunts the minds of all young people, and there is an easy familiarity in the relation, which may remain but a pleasant feature in their lives, and yet can easily deepen into a controlling association.
These two young people had lived as