“My house seems remarkably full of people," he observed. "Is it possible we were expected.”

“How very awkward places we do choose in which to propose to one another!' remarked Mr. Beaumaris.”

“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.”

“The charm of your society, my Sparrow, lies in not knowing what you will say next – though one rapidly learns to expect the worst!”

“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.”

“You know what I think? Fate! That's what it is fate! There's a thing that comes after a fellow:got a name,but I forgot what it is. Creeps up behind him, and puts him in the basket when he ain't expecting it.”

“Desford said abruptly: "How old are you, my child? Sixteen? Seventeen?""Oh, no, I am much older than that!" she replied. "I'm as old as Lucasta - all but a few weeks!""Then why are you not downstairs dancing with the rest of them?" he demanded. "You must surely be out!""No, I'm not," she said. "I don't suppose I ever shall be, either. Unless my papa turns out not to be dead, and comes home to take care of me himself. But I don't think that at all likely, and even if he did come home it wouldn't be of the least use, because he seems never to have sixpence to scratch with. I am afraid he is not a very respectable person. My aunt says he was obliged to go abroad on account of being monstrously in debt." She sighed, and said wistfully: "I know that one ought not to criticize one's father, but I can't help feeling that it was just a little thoughtless of him to abandon me.”