He, at least, evidently belonged to a social status rather above that of the average clergyman, though his wife may not have done so.

Mr.Gresley, with his long, thin nose and his short upper lip and tall, well-set-up figure, bore on his whole personality the stamp of that for which it is difficult to find the right name, so unmeaning has the right name become by dint of putting it to low uses--the maltreated, the travestied name of "gentleman." None of those moral qualities, priggish or otherwise, are assumed for Mr.Gresley which, we are told, distinguish the true, the perfect gentleman, and some of which, thank Heaven! the "gentleman born" frequently lacks.

Whether he had them or not was a matter of opinion, but he had that which some who have it not strenuously affirm to be of no value--the right outside.
To any one who looked beyond the first impression of good-breeding and a well-cut coat, a second closer glance was discouraging.

Mr.Gresley's suspicious eye and thin, compressed lips hinted that both fanatic and saint were fighting for predominance in the kingdom of that pinched brain, the narrowness of which the sloping forehead betokened with such cruel plainness.

He looked as if he would fling himself as hard against a truth without perceiving it as a hunted hare against a stone-wall.