He was not a communicative man, and rarely wasted half an hour at the snug little inn near St.Oswald's Church, amidst the cluster of habitations that was once called Kirktown.

He was an unsociable man, people said, and thought himself better than Grasmere folk, the lodging-house keepers, and guides, and wrestlers, and the honest friendly souls who were the outcome of that band of Norwegian exiles which found a home in these peaceful vales.
Miss Mueller, more commonly known as Fraeulein, officiated at breakfast.
She never appeared at the board when Lady Maulevrier was present, but in her ladyship's absence Miss Mueller was guardian of the proprieties.

She was a stout, kindly creature, and by no means a formidable dragon.

When the gong sounded, John Hammond went into the dining-room, where he found Miss Mueller seated alone in front of the urn.
He bowed, quick to read 'governess' or 'companion' in the lady's appearance; and she bowed.
'I hope you have had a nice walk,' she said.

'I saw you from my bedroom window.' 'Did you?
Then I suppose yours is one of the few windows which look into that curious old quadrangle ?' 'No, there are no windows looking into the quadrangle.