He was a lanky , overgrown lad of fifteen or sixteen , odd and shy and dreamy , scarcely possessing a speaking acquaintance with others at the hotel . But he and Mrs. Longworth had been congenial from their first meeting . In many ways , he was far older than his years , but there was a certain inerradicable boyishness about him to which her heart warmed . `` You are the very person I was just going in search of . I 've news to tell . Sit down . '' He spoke eagerly , patting the big gray boulder beside him with his slim , brown hand . For a moment Beatrice hesitated . She wanted to be alone just then . But his clever , homely face was so appealing that she yielded and sat down . Stephen flung himself down again contentedly in the grasses at her feet , pillowing his chin in his palms and looking up at her , adoringly . `` You are so beautiful , dear lady . I love to look at you . Will you tilt that hat a little more over the left eye-brow ? Yes -- so -- some day I shall paint you . '' His tone and manner were all simplicity . `` When you are a great artist , '' said Beatrice , indulgently . He nodded . `` Yes , I mean to be that . I 've told you all my dreams , you know .
Now for my XXXXX .
chin feet grasses hand lad lady manner news person tone