There was a subtle likeness between Richard and his English ancestors
that neither intermarriage, climate, nor educational surroundings had
been able to overcome; but between him and John Millard there were
radical dissimilarities. Richard was sitting on the topmost of the
broad white steps which led from the piazza to the garden. With the
exception of a narrow black ribbon round his throat, he was altogether
dressed in white; and this dress was a singularly becoming contrast
to his black hair and glowing dark eyes. And in every attitude which
he took he managed his tall stature with an indolent grace suggestive
of an unlimited capacity for pride, passion, aristocratic--or
cottonocratic--self-sufficiency. In his best moods he was well aware
of the dangerous points in his character, and kept a guard over them;
otherwise they came prominently forward; and, sitting in John Millard's
presence, Richard Fontaine was very much indeed the Richard Fontaine
of a nature distinctly overbearing and uncontrolled.
John Millard leaned against the pillar of the piazza, talking to him.
He had a brown, handsome face, and short, brown, curly hair. His eyes
were very large and blue, with that steely look in them which snaps
like lightning when any thing strikes fire from the heart. He was very
tall and straight, and had a lofty carriage and an air of command.
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