The keen, discriminating eye of woman, overlooking neither dress nor
man, found both worthy of warmest commendation, and many remarks
passed between the ladies on that day that a handsomer man and more
ripe and perfect gentleman than the Bourgeois Philibert had never
been seen in New France.
His grizzled hair grew thickly all over his head, the sign of a
tenacious constitution. It was powdered and tied behind with a
broad ribbon, for he hated perukes. His strong, shapely figure was
handsomely conspicuous as he stood, chapeau in hand, greeting his
guests as they approached. His eyes beamed with pleasure and
hospitality, and his usually grave, thoughtful lips were wreathed in
smiles, the sweeter because not habitually seen upon them.
The Bourgeois had this in common with all complete and earnest
characters, that the people believed in him because they saw that he
believed in himself. His friends loved and trusted him to the
uttermost, his enemies hated and feared him in equal measure; but no
one, great or small, could ignore him and not feel his presence as a
solid piece of manhood.
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