Fleming Helphenstine

At first I thought there was a superfine Persuasion in his face; but the free flow That filled it when he stopped and cried, "Hollo!" Shone joyously, and so I let it shine. He said his name was Fleming Helphenstine, But be that as it may;—I only know He talked of this and that and So-and-So, And laughed and chaffed like any friend of mine. But soon, with a queer, quick frown, he looked at me, And I looked hard at him; and there we gazed In a strained way that made us cringe and wince: Then, with a wordless clogged apology That sounded half confused and half amazed, He dodged,—and I have never seen him since.