his secret irritation. The worst of all, perhaps, was, that Mr. Dunster
was really invaluable in many ways; "a perfect treasure," as Mr. Wilkins
used to term him in speaking of him after dinner; but, for all that, he
came to hate his "perfect treasure," as he gradually felt that Dunster
had become so indispensable to the business that his chief could not do
without him.

The clients re-echoed Mr. Wilkins's words, and spoke of Mr. Dunster as
invaluable to his master; a thorough treasure, the very saving of the
business. They had not been better attended to, not even in old Mr.
Wilkins's days; such a clear head, such a knowledge of law, such a
steady, upright fellow, always at his post. The grating voice, the
drawling accent, the bottle-green coat, were nothing to them; far less
noticed, in fact, than Wilkins's expensive habits, the money he paid for
his wine and horses, and the nonsense of claiming kin with the Welsh
Wilkinses, and setting up his brougham to drive about ---shire lanes, and
be knocked to pieces over the rough round paving-stones thereof.

All these remarks did not come near Ellinor to trouble her life. To her,
her dear father was the first of human beings; so sweet, so good, so
kind, so charming in conversation, so full of accomplishment and
information! To her healthy, happy mind every one turned their bright
side. She loved Miss Monro--all the servants--especially Dixon, the
coachman. He had been her father's playfellow as a boy, and, with all
his respect and admiration for his master, the freedom of intercourse
that had been established between them then had never been quite lost.
Dixon was a fine, stalwart old fellow, and was as harmonious in his ways
with his master as Mr. Dunster was discordant; accordingly he was a great
favourite, and could say many a thing which might have been taken as
impertinent from another servant.