He looked precisely what he was--an honest, honourable, prosperous tradesman.

I watched him down the street--my good father, whom I respected perhaps even more than I loved him.

The Cornish lad watched him likewise.
It still rained slightly, so we remained under cover.

John Halifax leaned in his old place, and did not attempt to talk.

Once only, when the draught through the alley made me shiver, he pulled my cloak round me carefully.
"You are not very strong, I'm afraid ?" "No." Then he stood idly looking up at the opposite--the mayor's--house, with its steps and portico, and its fourteen windows, one of which was open, and a cluster of little heads visible there.
The mayor's children--I knew them all by sight, though nothing more; for their father was a lawyer, and mine a tanner; they belonged to Abbey folk and orthodoxy, I to the Society of Friends--the mayor's rosy children seemed greatly amused by watching us shivering shelterers from the rain.