In dignified silence she passed it over, sending the children and Phillis away to their early dinner, and after an interval of that lively conversation, in which, under no circumstances, did Sir Edwin ever fail, allowing him also to depart.
As he went down the garden, Miss Grey, with great dismay, watched him stop at her beautiful jessamine bower, pull half a dozen of the white stars, smell at them, and throw them away.

He would have done the same--perhaps had done it--with far diviner things than jessamine flowers.
"Yes," said Miss Gascoigne, looking after him, and then sitting down opposite Miss Grey, spreading out her wide silk skirts, and preparing herself solemnly for a wordy war--that is, if it could be called a war which was all on one side--"yes, I have come to the bottom of it all.

I knew I should.

Nothing ever escapes me.

And pray, Maria, what do you think of her now." "Think of whom ?" "You are so dull when you won't hear.