'He shows perfect good sense, and I like that in all things, as you know.

A red-haired young woman chooses to wait on him and bring him flowers--he's brother to Patrick in his love of wild flowers, at all events!--and he takes it naturally and simply.

These officers bear illness well.

I suppose it 's the drill.' 'Still I think it a horrid profession, dear.' Grace felt obliged to insist on that: and her 'I think,' though it was not stressed, tickled Jane's dormant ear to some drowsy wakefulness.
'I think too much honour is paid to it, certainly.

But soldiers, of all men, one would expect to be overwhelmed by a feeling of weakness.