countenance much less frequently than the eyes of her parents; but
then he rarely looked at her in return--rarely looked at her at all,
except when common courtesy obliged him to do so.

If any one had told me beforehand, that I should suspend my ordinary
evening's occupation with my young wife, for the sake of observing the
very man who had interrupted it, and that man only Mr. Sherwin's
clerk, I should have laughed at the idea. Yet so it was. Our books lay
neglected on the table--neglected by me, perhaps by Margaret too, for
Mr. Mannion.

His conversation, on this occasion at least, baffled all curiosity as
completely as his face. I tried to lead him to talk. He just answered
me, and that was all; speaking with great respect of manner and
phrase, very intelligibly, but very briefly. Mr. Sherwin--after
referring to the business expedition on which he had been absent, for
the purchase of silks at Lyons--asked him some questions about France
and the French, which evidently proceeded from the most ludicrous
ignorance both of the country and the people. Mr. Mannion just set him
right; and did no more. There was not the smallest inflection of
sarcasm in his voice, not the slightest look of sarcasm in his eye,
while he spoke. When we talked among ourselves, he did not join in the
conversation; but sat quietly waiting until he might be pointedly and
personally addressed again. At these times a suspicion crossed my mind
that he might really be studying my character, as I was vainly trying
to study his; and I often turned suddenly round on him, to see whether
he was looking at me. This was never the case. His hard, chill grey
eyes were not on me, and not on Margaret: they rested most frequently
on Mrs. Sherwin, who always shrank before them.