Mr. Dunster, the new clerk, was a quiet, respectable-looking man; you
could not call him a gentleman in manner, and yet no one could say he was
vulgar. He had not much varying expression on his face, but a permanent
one of thoughtful consideration of the subject in hand, whatever it might
be, that would have fitted as well with the profession of medicine as
with that of law, and was quite the right look for either. Occasionally
a bright flash of sudden intelligence lightened up his deep-sunk eyes,
but even this was quickly extinguished as by some inward repression, and
the habitually reflective, subdued expression returned to the face. As
soon as he came into his situation, he first began quietly to arrange the
papers, and next the business of which they were the outer sign, into
more methodical order than they had been in since old Mr. Wilkins's
death. Punctual to a moment himself, he looked his displeased surprise
when the inferior clerks came tumbling in half an hour after the time in
the morning; and his look was more effective than many men's words;
henceforward the subordinates were within five minutes of the appointed
hour for opening the office; but still he was always there before them.
Mr. Wilkins himself winced under his new clerk's order and punctuality;
Mr. Dunster's raised eyebrow and contraction of the lips at some woeful
confusion in the business of the office, chafed Mr.
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