Oh, 'tis Not My Qualities

Depend Upon It, You Are Just The Sort Of Girl A Man Would Be Glad To Have For His Sister! You Don't Even Know How To Swoon, And I Daresay If You Tried You Would Make Wretched Work Of It, For All You Have Is Common Sense, And Of What Use Is That, Pray?

She Decided That Her Wisest Course Would Be To Put Him Out Of Her Mind. After Reaching This Conclusion She Lay Thinking About Him Until At Last She Fell Asleep.

Remind Me One Day To Teach You How To Achieve A Sneer, Hugh. Yours Is Too Pronounced, And Thus But A Grimace. It Should Be But A Faint Curl Of The Lips.

She Succumbed To The Eternal Feminine Passion For Bargains.

Let Me Tell You, My Girl, That I'm Swallowing No More Of Your Insults! And If I Hear Another Word From You In Disparagement Of The Corinthian Set It Will Be Very Much The Worse For You!