The more impatient people were for their letters, the more tedious was he in his delivery.
Benjafield had been a fisherman in his day, and had a very sharp, withered old face.

He had a blind eye, too, and walked by the aid of a crutch but it was his boast that, notwithstanding his one eye and his lameness, no one had ever yet got the better of him.
"There's Benjafield!" exclaimed Mabel.

"Shall I run and fetch the letters, mother ?" Mrs.Bertram rose slowly from her seat at the head of the board.
"The post is later than ever," she remarked; "it is past the half-hour.
I shall go myself and speak to Benjafield." She walked slowly out through the open window.

She wore an evening dress of rusty black velvet with a long train.

It gave her a very imposing appearance, and the effect of her evening dress and her handsome face and imperious manners were so overpowering that the old postman, as he hobbled toward her, had to mutter under his breath: "Don't forget your game leg, Benjafield, nor your wall eye, and don't you be tooken down nor beholden to nobody." "Why is the post so late ?" inquired Mrs.Bertram.