He was neither shocked nor disgusted, as apparently were some of his contemporaries--at least, his face betrayed neither of those emotions.
He was keenly interested--suavely attentive.

He followed each spasmodic movement with imperturbably pleasant eyes.
"My dear young lady," he said, with one of his courtliest bows, when at last Miss Fitzmannering had had enough of it, "you have given us a great treat--you have, indeed." "A most unique performance," he continued, turning gravely to Lady Cantourne, by whose side he had been standing; and, strange to say, her ladyship made a reproving little movement of the lips, and tapped his elbow surreptitiously, as if he were misbehaving himself.
He offered his arm with a murmur of refreshments, and she accepted.
"Well," he said, when they were alone, or nearly so, "do you not admit that it was a most unique performance ?" "Hush!" replied the lady, either because she was a woman or because she was a woman of the world.

"The poor girl cannot help it.

She is forced into it by the exigencies of society, and her mother.

It is not entirely her fault." "It will be entirely my fault," replied Sir John, "if I see her do it again." "It does not matter about a man," said Lady Cantourne, after a little pause; "but a woman cannot afford to make a fool of herself.