Sir Beverley do set such store by him, always did from the day he brought him back from his dead mother in Paris, along with that French valet who carried him like as if he'd been a parcel of goods.

He's been brought up by men from his cradle, miss, and it hasn't done him any good.

But there! Sir Beverley is that set against all womenkind there's no moving him." Mrs.Marshall was beginning to expand--a mark of high favour which she bestowed only upon the few.
Avery listened with respect, comfortably aware that by this simple means she was creating a good impression.

She was anxious to win the old dame to a benevolent frame of mind if possible, since to be thrown upon unwilling hospitality was the last thing she desired.
It was characteristic of her that she achieved her purpose.

When she returned to the parlour in Mrs.Marshall's wake, she had completely won her hostess's heart, a fact which Piers remarked on the instant.
"There's magic in you," he said to Avery, as she gave him his cup of tea.
"I prefer to call it common sense," she answered.
She turned her attention at once to Jeanie, coaxing her to drink the tea though her utmost persuasion could not induce her to eat anything.