He cared not to please (that, alas! had never been especially his study); it was enough for him if he could see, stretching to his mind's eye beyond the walls of that dull room, the long vistas into fairer fortune.

At sixteen, what sorrow can freeze the Hope, or what prophetic fear whisper, "Fool!" to the Ambition?
He would bear back into ease and prosperity, if not into affluence and station, the dear ones left at home.

From the eminence of five shillings a week, he looked over the Promised Land.
At length, Mr.Plaskwith, pulling out his watch, said, "Just in time to catch the coach; make your bow and be off-smart's the word!" Philip rose, took up his hat, made a stiff bow that included the whole group, and vanished with his host.
Mrs.Plaskwith breathed more easily when he was gone.

"I never seed a more odd, fierce, ill-bred-looking young man! I declare I am quite afraid of him.

What an eye he has!" "Uncommonly dark; what I may say gipsy-like," said Mr.Plimmins.
"He! he! You always do say such good things, Plimmins.