His declared years of twenty were not betrayed by the truth of mere ten and seven, for he was the tallest of the grooms by nearly a quarter-foot. He had a far better view of Edward Hardin’s sandy hair than of that man’s dimpled chin. There was even talk he might be promoted to footman, if Mrs. Hardin could but put some flesh on his bones, for he was yet quite slim. So lean was he, Mrs. Hardin teased him that he cast no greater shadow at four than noon. This jest was usually in encouragement of him to take a second helping, for he often partook of meals with them. He had grown in height if not breadth and had to shave three times a week, but had not changed one smidgen in demeanour. His expression was still deliberately bland. Indeed, it might have been no bother at all to convince others of his placidity was it not for his eyes. Those denuding culprits were accentuated with an unruly tangle of dark lashes, but that was not why they were remarkable.
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