They quickened her pulse, they gave her a curious uplifted happiness that took absolutely no account of any other circumstance.
There were days when Mrs.Jordan had real twinges of conscience about the quality of Miss Bell's steak.

"But there," Mrs.Jordan would soothe herself, "I might bring her the best sulline, and she wouldn't know no difference." In other practical respects the girl was equally indifferent.

Her clothes were shabby, and she did not seem to think of replacing them; Mrs.Jordan made preposterous charges for candles, and she paid them without question.

She tipped people who did little services for her with a kind of royal delicacy; the girl who scrubbed the landings worshipped her, and the boy who came every day for her copy once brought her a resplendent "button-hole" consisting of two pink rosebuds and a scarlet geranium, tendering it with a shy lie to the effect that he had found it in the street.

She went alone now and again to the opera, taking an obscure place, and she lived a good deal among the foreign art exhibitions of Bond Street.