"I think, perhaps, she is rather less decided than she used to be." "Oh, you call it decision, do you?
Well, I'm glad I know what it is.

I used to think it hadn't such a pretty name as that." Richard looked grave; it certainly was not a graceful way to lead up to congratulations.
"But then, you always liked her," I said.
"Yes, I always liked her," he answered, simply.
"I'm afraid I'm not very amiable," I retorted, "for I never liked her: no better even than that fraudulent Mary Leighton, clever and sensible as she always was.

There is such a thing as being too clever, and too sensible, and making yourself an offence to all less admirable people." Richard was entirely silent, and, I was sure, was disapproving of me very much.
"Do you know what I heard yesterday ?" I said, In a daring way.

"And I hope you're going to tell me if it's true, to-night ?" "What was it that you heard yesterday ?" he asked, without much change of tone.

He had laid down the photograph, and had gone back, and was leaning by the mantelpiece again.
"Why, I heard that you were going to marry Charlotte Benson.