His decent black coat was just what a scholar's should be,--old, not untidy, a little shiny at the elbows with much leaning on his study-table, but neatly bound at the cuffs, where worthy Mrs.Hopkins had detected signs of fatigue and come to the rescue.

His very hat looked honest as it lay on the table.

It had moulded itself to a broad, noble head, that held nothing but what was true and fair, with a few harmless crotchets just to fill in with, and it seemed to know it.
The good woman gave him her confidence at once.

"Is the person you are seeking a niece or other relative of yours ?" (Why did not she ask if the girl was his daughter?
What is that look of paternity and of maternity which observing and experienced mothers and old nurses know so well in men and in women ?) "No, she is not a relative.

But I am acting for those who are." "Wait a moment and I will go and see that the room is all right." She returned presently.