When prayers were ended, and his Mother had wished him good-night with that long steady look of hers which conveyed no expression of the tenderness that was in her heart, but yet had all the intensity of a blessing.

Th' longest lane will have a turning.

Margaret was not a ready lover, but where she loved she loved passionately, and with no small degree of jealousy.

A great matter calls her son with terms like deal, and love.

I am the mother that bore you, and your sorrow is my agony; and if you don't hate her, i do' Then, mother, you make me love her more. She is unjustly treated by you, and I must make the balance even.

I do not look on self-indulgent, sensual people as worthy of my hatred; I simply look upon them with contempt for their poorness of character.

How am I to dress up in my finery, and go off and away to smart parties, after the sorrow I have seen today?