d again
to the happy ease of dignified retirement, to the coming time in
which all his hours will be his own. And then, again, when those
unfurnished hours are there, and with them shall have come the
infirmities which years and toil shall have brought, his mind will
run on once more to that eternal rest in which fees and salary,
honours and dignity, wife and children, with all the joys of
satisfied success, shall be brought together for him in one perfect
amalgam which he will call by the name of Heaven. In the meantime, he
has now come down to Bullhampton to enjoy himself for four days,--if
he can find enjoyment without his law papers.

Mr. Quickenham was a tall, thin man, with eager gray eyes, and a long
projecting nose, on which, his enemies in the courts of law were wont
to say, his wife would hang a kettle, in order that the unnecessary
heat coming from his mouth might not be wasted. His hair was already
grizzled, and, in the matter of whiskers, his heavy impatient hand
had nearly altogether cut away the only intended ornament to his
face. He was a man who allowed himself time for nothing but his law
work, eating all his meals as though the saving of a few minutes
in that operation were matter of vital importance, dressing and
undressing at railroad speed, moving ever with a quick, impetuous
step, as though the whole world around him went too slowly. He was
short-sighted, too, and would tumble about in his unnecessary hurry,
barking his shins, bruising his knuckles, and breaking most things
that were breakable,--but caring nothing for his sufferings either in
body or in purse so that he was not reminded of his awkwardness by
his wife. An untidy man he was, who spilt his soup on his waistcoat
and slobbered with his tea, whose fingers were apt to be ink-stained,
and who had a grievous habit of mislaying papers that were most
material to him. He would bellow to the servants to have his things
found for him, and would then scold them for looking. But when alone
he would be ever scolding himself because of the faults which he
thus committed. A conscientious, hard-working, friendly man he was,
but one difficult to deal with; hot in his temper, impatient of all
stupidities, impatient often of that which he wrongly thought to be
stupidity, never owning himself to be wrong, anxious always for the
truth, but often missing to see it, a man who would fret grievously
for the merest trifle, and think nothing of the greatest su