Why, Molly, what are you dreaming about ?' 'Oh, yes, I am ugly.

I may not seem so to you, perhaps, because you are used to me, but I know he must think me very plain compared with Lesbia, whom he admires so much.' 'Yes, he admires Lesbia.

There is no doubt of that.' 'And I know he thinks me plain,' said Molly, contemplating Wetherlam with sorrowful eyes, as if the sequence were inevitable.
'My dearest girl, what nonsense! Plain, forsooth?
Ugly, quotha?
Why, there are not a finer pair of eyes in Westmoreland than my Molly's, or a prettier smile, or whiter teeth.' 'But all the rest is horrid,' said Mary, intensely in earnest.

'I am sunburnt, freckled, and altogether odious--like a haymaker or a market woman.

Grandmother has said so often enough, and I know it is the truth.
I can see it in Mr.Hammond's manner.' 'What! freckles and sunburn, and the haymaker, and all that ?' cried Maulevrier, laughing.