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But she enjoyed the pictures in her own way, and was standing in delighted admiration before a large marine, which was nothing but the varying blues of the sea and sky, when she heard a pleasant, frank young voice beside her say: "You seem to like that picture." "Oh, I do!" she exclaimed, and turning, saw a pleasant-faced boy of about nineteen smiling at her. "It is so real," she said.
"And then?" "Second Foreign." "Oh. Get that leg in the trenches?" inquired Neeland. "Yes. Came over to recuperate. But Finistère calls me. I’ve got to smell the sea off Eryx before I can get well." A pleasant-faced, middle-aged man, who stood near, turned his head and cast a professionally appraising glance at the young fellow on crutches. His name was Vail; he was a physician.
She had made similar trips before and had always found pleasant and attentive companionship. Being a wholesome, pleasant-faced girl, with eyes decidedly beautiful, and an attractive personality, the making or new friendships was never difficult.
What they did confront was a pleasant-faced, white-haired, elderly lady, evidently a woman of fashion and of culture, who bent forward from her seat with a kindly, half-apologetic smile. "Miss Wynne?" she said inquiringly. "How do you do? And this gentleman is, no doubt, Mr. Selwood, of whom I have heard?
The new minister and his wife were a young, pleasant-faced couple, still on their honeymoon, and full of all good and beautiful enthusiasms for their chosen lifework. Avonlea opened its heart to them from the start. Old and young liked the frank, cheerful young man with his high ideals, and the bright, gentle little lady who assumed the mistress-ship of the manse. With Mrs.
Just at that moment a pleasant-faced man, about fifty years of age, came out of the house, warned, by the loud barking of four dogs, of the arrival of strangers. He was followed by five handsome strapping lads, his sons, and their mother, a fine tall woman. There was no mistaking the little group.
Damsel felt his load of responsibility begin to grow lighter, and he waited impatiently for the morning to come. The next morning about 10 o'clock Mr. Damsel received a note, signed "Pinkerton," requesting him to call at room 84 of the Southern Hotel. He went at once. A pleasant-faced gentleman, with a heavy mustache and keen eyes, greeted him, and Mr.
But he knew of something strange connected with the matter, and this he related to the detective who was now in charge of the case. This officer was a chatty, agreeable, pleasant-faced man, with brown eyes, brown hair and brown skin.
He struck another match and lit the candle in the wagonette lamp, and was revealed to Barrant's eyes as a stout and pleasant-faced man of fifty or so, with something seamanlike, or at least boatmanlike, in his appearance. He gave the detective a smile and a nod, and added, "Old Crows is fullish mean about candles."
Lichonin, for the sake of assurance, sat down beside the sub-professor, having embraced him around the waist and seated him on his knees and those of his neighbour, the little Tolpygin, a rosy, pleasant-faced boy on whose face, despite his twenty-three years, the childish white down soft and light still showed. "The station is at Doroshenko's!" called out Lichonin after the cabbies driving off.
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