And Mrs.Winterfield kept a low, four-wheeled, one-horsed little phaeton, in which she made her pilgrimages among the poor of Perivale, driven by the most solemn of stable-boys, dressed up in a white great coat, the most priggish of hats, and white cotton gloves.

At the rate of five miles an hour was she driven about, and this driving was to her the amusement of life.

But such an occupation to Clara Amedroz assisted to make life serious.
In person Mrs.Winterfield was tall and thin, wearing on her brow thin braids of false hair.

She had suffered much from acute ill health, and her jaws were sunken, and her eyes were hollow, and there was a look of woe about her which seemed ever to be telling of her own sorrows in this world and of the sorrows of others in the world to come.

Ill-nature was written on her face, but in this her face was a false face.