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Lucy heard a church bell strike: she started from a fit of abstraction, and, turning to move on, confronted an old man who was crossing the bridge. The face of this old man was pale and wrinkled; his hair was long and quite white. His nose streamed down his face in a thin, curling outline; his mouth when his lips were compressed might be expressed by a simple stroke of a pencil.[Pg 30] His eyes were deep-seated and extraordinarily luminous and swift in their motions, and his eyebrows, which were as white as his hair, were so thick and overhanging that they might have passed for a couple of white mice sleeping on his brow. His apparel had that dim and faded look which in fiction is associated with miserliness. His high and dingy white cravat and the tall build of his coat at the back of his head, so sloped his shoulders that they looked to make a line with his arms. He wore a faded red waistcoat which sank very low, and under it dangled a bunch of seals. His knee-breeches left painfully visible the pipe-stem shanks clothed in grey hose and terminating in large shoes, burdened with steel buckles., "Good as ever, Billy, dried out—and gone. Come into the house. I've got great news.", Naturally Sir William grieved over this consideration. Here was a beautiful girl and an heiress, belonging to one of the oldest families in the country; her father had exhibited no[Pg 89] marked ambition in the direction of her marriage; he was willing to leave her to choose, having confidence in her judgment, and convinced that her choice would be dictated by regard to her own happiness. Like Sir William, he loved his old calling, and a naval alliance would have been gratifying to him. There was indeed much for the poor old Admiral to deplore, and no doubt Lucy had some delicate sense of what might be or should have been as she sat with her cheeks a little deepened in colour and her eyes pensively bent downwards..