Miss Trent regarded her thoughtfully. "Well, it's an odd circumstance, but I've frequently observed that whenever you boast of your beauty you seem to lose some of it. I expect it must be the change in your expression." Startled, Tiffany flew to gaze anxiously into the ornate looking-glass which hung above the fireplace. "Do I?" she asked naively. "Really do I, Ancilla?" "Yes, decidedly," replied Miss Trent, perjuring her soul without the least hesitation.

There is nothing so mortifying as to fall in love with someone who does not share one's sentiments.

Is it not insupportable to be held down to a canter when you long to gallop for miles?

She succumbed to the eternal feminine passion for bargains.

The Marquis believed himself to be hardened against flattery. He thought that he had experienced every variety, but he discovered that he was mistaken: the blatantly worshipful look in the eyes of a twelve-year-old, anxiously raised to his, was new to him, and it pierced his defences.

And now I wish I hadn’t been civil, because he says he shall not despair! He is as stupid as Endymion!” “No, no!” said Alverstoke soothingly. “Nobody could be as stupid as Endymion!

You don't feel you could marry me instead? Got no brains, of course, and I ain't a handsome fellow, like Jack, but I love you. Don't think I could ever love anyone else.