Handsome! yes; splendidly handsome this man, in a massive Herculean fashion. One who would be called a magnificent animal; for there was no intellect in the fresh-coloured face, no intelligence in the bright blue eyes, and his whole figure had but beauty and symmetry after the fashion of a brute. He was very tall--over six feet--with long limbs, a great breadth of chest, and a small, well-shaped head covered with crisp locks of curly golden hair. His skin was browned by the sun, he had a well-shaped nose, sleepy blue eyes, and his mouth and chin were hidden by a magnificent golden beard which swept his chest. Nature had lavished her gift of physical beauty on this man, but the casket contained no jewel, for the soul which would have lent light to the eyes, expression to the mouth, and noble bearing to the body, was absent, and Samson Belk was simply a fine animal whom one would admire like a soulless picture, but tire of in a few moments. Mrs. Belswin's first thought was, "What a handsome man!" her second, "What a brute he would be to the woman who loved him!" They were a curious couple, the little withered mother and the tall handsome son, dissimilar enough in appearance to negative the relationship except for the expression of the face; for there, in the countenance of the man, appeared the same expression that pervaded the face of the woman. The eyes were not so restless, because they had rather a sleepy expression, the sneer on the lips was hidden by the drooping moustache, and the general look was more of ill-humour than discontent: but in spite of the physical difference between them, no one could have helped noticing, by the worst traits of the woman appearing in the man, that this splendid specimen of humanity was the offspring of this dwarfish feminine personality. "You are Sir Rupert's head bailiff, are you not?" said Mrs. Belswin, when she had sufficiently admired her host. "Yes, madam, I have that honour." He spoke in a slow sleepy voice, eminently attractive, and suited to his appearance; a voice which, in its languor and oily softness, had an accent of refinement and culture. Yet this man was a simple rustic, a bailiff, one of the peasant class. It was most perplexing; and Mrs. Belswin, clever woman of the world as she was, felt herself puzzled. She was a woman and inquisitive, so she set herself to work to solve this problem by a series of artful questions. "Have you been a bailiff here long?" "About four years, madam. I was bailiff to Sir Robert, and when Sir Rupert came into the title he kindly kept me on." "I should think you were fitted for better things." Belk gazed at her in a slow, bovine fashion, and a spark of admiration flashed into his sleepy eyes as he looked at this stately woman who spoke in such a friendly manner. "It's very kind of you to say so, madam, but I have no one to say a good word for me."