An eye of the darkest hazel, sharp, shrewd, and flashing at times, especially at the mention of the euphonious name of Lady Waddilove,--a name frequently upon the lips of the inheritor of her abigail,--with a fire that might be called brilliant, was of that modest species which can seldom encounter the straightforward glance of another; on the contrary, it seemed restlessly uneasy in any settled place, and wandered from ceiling to floor, and corner to corner, with an inquisitive though apparently careless glance, as if seeking for something to admire or haply to appropriate; it also seemed to be the especial care of Mr.Brown to veil, as far as he was able, the vivacity of his looks beneath an expression of open and unheeding good-nature, an expression strangely enough contrasting with the closeness and sagacity which Nature had indelibly stamped upon features pointed, aquiline, and impressed with a strong mixture of the Judaical physiognomy.

The manner and bearing of this gentleman partook of the same undecided character as his countenance: they seemed to be struggling between civility and importance; a real eagerness to make the acquaintance of the person he addressed, and an assumed recklessness of the advantages which that acquaintance could bestow;--it was like the behaviour of a man who is desirous of having the best possible motives imputed to him, but is fearful lest that desire should not be utterly fulfilled.

At the first glance you would have pledged yourself for his respectability; at the second, you would have half suspected him to be a rogue; and, after you had been half an hour in his company, you would confess yourself in the obscurest doubt which was the better guess, the first or the last.
"Waiter!" said Mr.Brown, looking enviously at the viands upon which Linden, having satisfied his curiosity, was now with all the appetite of youth regaling himself.

"Waiter!" "Yes, sir!" "Bring me a sandwich--and--and, waiter, see that I have plenty of--plenty of--" "What, sir ?" "Plenty of mustard, waiter." "Mustard" (and here Mr.Brown addressed himself to Clarence) "is a very wonderful assistance to the digestion.

By the by, sir, if you want any curiously fine mustard, I can procure you some pots quite capital,--a great favour, though,--they were smuggled from France, especially for the use of the late Lady Waddilove." "Thank you," said Linden, dryly; "I shall be very happy to accept anything you may wish to offer me." Mr.Brown took a pocket-book from his pouch.