and they who so treated him were his chosen friends.  He had in this the instincts of a horse, not approaching the higher sympathies of a dog.  But it cannot be said of him that he had ever loved any one to the extent of denying himself a moment’s gratification on that loved one’s behalf.  His heart was a stone.  But he was beautiful to lock at, ready-witted, and intelligent.  He was very dark, with that soft olive complexion which so generally gives to young men an appearance of aristocratic breeding.  His hair, which was never allowed to become long, was nearly black, and was soft and silky without that taint of grease which is so common with silken-headed darlings.  His eyes were long, brown in colour, and were made beautiful by the perfect arch of the...