It seems a very low neighbourhood, worse a good deal than I expected.

However, there will be all the more to do." There was something so modest and yet so resolute in the way he spoke that we both liked him.
His house, a dull-looking City rectory, was at the end of the street, and here we halted.
"We're rather in a state of confusion here," said he, as he rang the bell, "we only moved in this week.

So you must take us as you find us." We entered, and were ushered into a pleasant parlour, which appeared to be the only completely furnished room at present.
"Is Mr Edward at home ?" asked our host of the servant.
"Yes, sir, he's upstairs." "Ask him to come down," said he, "and bring in supper." He explained to us that Edward was his son, whom he would like us to know.
"I'm often sorry for him," said the father; "he has no mother, and I am too much occupied to be much with him.

I wish he had some _good_ friends in London." He emphasised the word "good," as much as to say that some of his son's friends were not very desirable.
The servant brought in supper, and said that Master Edward would be down presently.
Meanwhile our host chatted pleasantly, chiefly about his parish and his plans for improving it.

I could not help admiring him more and more as he went on.