"It's because I'm a relative of the Palmers, and the Palmers and the Lambs seem to be old family friends." "Something the Adamses certainly are not," Alice said.

"Not with either of 'em; particularly not with the Lambs!" And here, scarce aware of what impelled her, she returned to her former elaborations and colourings.
"You see, the differences between Henrietta and me aren't entirely personal: I couldn't go to her house even if I liked her.

The Lambs and Adamses don't get on with each other, and we've just about come to the breaking-point as it happens." "I hope it's nothing to bother you." "Why?
A lot of things bother me." "I'm sorry they do," he said, and seemed simply to mean it.
She nodded gratefully.

"That's nice of you, Mr.Russell.It helps.

The break between the Adamses and the Lambs is a pretty bothersome thing.
It's been coming on a long time." She sighed deeply, and the sigh was half genuine; this half being for her father, but the other half probably belonged to her instinctive rendering of Juliet Capulet, daughter to a warring house.