The coachman was a very fine specimen, full and fruity, and he drove with a sort of sacramental dignity.

Others might doubt their calling and position in the world, he at any rate was sure--he drove her ladyship.

The footman sat beside him with folded arms and a face of inflexible certainties.

Then the great lady herself became visible, in a hat and mantle disdainfully inelegant, peering through her glasses.

Two young ladies protruded necks and peered also.
The Vicar passing on the other side swept off the hat from his David's brow unheeded....
Redwood remained standing in the doorway for a long time after the carriage had passed, his hands folded behind him.