“Miss Trent regarded her thoughtfully. "Well, it's an odd circumstance, but I've frequently observed that whenever you boast of your beauty you seem to lose some of it. I expect it must be the change in your expression."Startled, Tiffany flew to gaze anxiously into the ornate looking-glass which hung above the fireplace. "Do I?" she asked naively. "Really do I, Ancilla?""Yes, decidedly," replied Miss Trent, perjuring her soul without the least hesitation.”
“I said, Quiet!"Tiffany was so much startled by this peremptory reminder that she gasped, and stood staring up at the Nonesuch as though she could not believe that he was speaking not to his cousin, but actually to her. She drew in her breath audibly, and clenched her hands. Miss Trent cast a look of entreaty at sir Waldo, but he ignored it. He strolled up to the infuriated beauty, and pushed up her chin."Now, you may listen to me, my child!" he said sternly. "You are becoming a dead bore, and I don't tolerate bores. Neither do I tolerate noisy tantrums. Unless you want to be soundly smacked, enact me no ill-bred scenes!"There was a moment's astonished silence. Laurence broke it, seizing his cousin's hand, and fervently shaking it. "I knew you was a right one!" he declared. "A great gun, Waldo! Damme, a Trojan!”
“Miss Grantham's sense of humour got the better of her at this point, and, tottering towards a chair, she sank into it, exclaiming in tragic accents:'Oh Heavens! I am betrayed!' His lordship blenched; both he and Miss Laxton regarded her with guilty dismay. Miss Grantham buried her face in her handkerchief, and uttered one shattering word: 'Wretch!”
“Wretch! I shan’t allow you to take a rise out of me! I want to talk to you about Jane!”“Who the devil is—Oh, yes, I know! One of your girls!”“My eldest daughter, and, let me remind you, your niece, Alverstoke!”“Unjust, Louisa, I needed no reminder!”“I am bringing the dear child out this season,”[...]“You’ll have to do something about her freckles—if she’s the one I think she is,” he interrupted. “Have you tried citron-water?”“I didn’t invite you to come here to discuss Jane’s appearance!” she snapped.“Well, why did you invite me?”“To ask you to hold a ball in her honour—at Alverstoke House!” she disclosed, rushing her fence.“To do what?”
“Mr Merriot cocked an eyebrow at Kate, and said: - "Well, my dear, and did you kiss her good-night?"Miss Merriot kicked off her shoes, and replied in kind. "What, are you parted from the large gentleman already?"Mr Merriot looked into the fire, and a slow smile came, and the suspicion of a blush."Lord, child!" said Miss Merriot. "Are you for the mammoth? It's a most respectable gentleman, my dear."Mr Merriot raised his eyes. "I believe I would not choose to cross him," he remarked inconsequently. "But I would trust him."Miss Merriot began to laugh. "Be a man, my Peter, I implore you.""Alack!" sighed Mr Merriot, "I feel all a woman.”
“The Reverend William Trent, whose mind was of a serious order, had several times warned his elder sister that too lively a sense of humour frequently led to laxity of principle. She now perceived how right he was; and wondered, in dismay, whether it was because he invariably made her laugh that instead of regarding the Nonesuch with revulsion she was obliged to struggle against the impulse to cast every scruple to the winds, and to give her life into his keeping.”
“I shan't ask you how you do, ma'am: to enquire after a lady's health implies that she is not in her best looks. Besides, I can see that you are in high bloom.”