Pray make yourself look nice--don't twist up your hair in that any-how fashion." Ethel sighed, then began talking fast about some hints on school-keeping which she had picked up for Cocksmoor.
Flora's glossy braids were in full order, while Ethel was still struggling to get her plait smooth, and was extremely beholden to her sister for taking it into her own hands and doing the best with it that its thinness and roughness permitted.

And then Flora pinched and pulled and arranged Ethel's frock, in vain attempts to make it sit like her own--those sharp high bones resisted all attempts to disguise them.
"Never mind, Flora, it is quite tidy, I am sure, there--do let me be in peace.

You are like old nurse." "So those are all the thanks I get ?" "Well, thank you very much, dear Flora.

You are a famous person.

How I wish Margaret could see that lovely mimosa!" "And, Ethel, do take care.