His hair was of an indefinite shade, neither light nor dark, somewhat of the tinge of a dusty potato before it is washed clean.

It was neatly brushed and parted in the middle with mathematical precision, while from the back of his head it was brought forward in two projections, one on each side, like budding wings behind his ears.

It was impossible for the most fastidious critic to find fault with the Reverend Mr.Dyceworthy's hands.

He had beautiful hands, white, soft, plump and well-shaped,--his delicate filbert nails were trimmed with punctilious care, and shone with a pink lustre that was positively charming.

He was evidently an amiable man, for he smiled to himself over his tea,--he had a trick of smiling,--ill-natured people said he did it on purpose, in order to widen his mouth and make it more in pro-portion to the size of his face.