No one could have called Mr. Standen quick-witted, but the possession of three sisters had considerably sharpened his instinct of self-preservation.

I don't know what you may have seen fit to tell her, Venetia, but so far as I understand it you could think of nothing better to do than to beguile her with some farrago about wishing Damerel to strew rose-leaves for you to walk on!" Damerel, who had resumed his seat, had been staring moodily into the fire, but at these words he looked up quickly. "Rose-leaves?" His eyes went to Venetia's face, wickedly quizzing her. "But my dear girl, at this season?" "Be quiet, you wretch!" she said, blushing.

Judging from the letters I've received from obviously feeble-minded persons who wish I would write another These Old Shades, it ought to sell like hot cakes.

You’ve no more for me than I have for you.” Considerably disconcerted by this direct attack, she stammered: “How can you say so? When I am sure I have always been most sincerely attached to you!” “You deceive yourself, sister: not to me, but to my purse!

People who start a sentence with personally (and they're always women) ought to be thrown to the lions. It's a repulsive habit.

It was growing late, and though one might stand on the brink of a deep chasm of disaster, one was still obliged to dress for dinner.

I liked that young man, did not you? There was something particularly pleasing about his manners, which I thought very easy and frank. He has an air of honest manliness, too, which, in these days of fribbles and counter-coxcombs, I own I find refreshing!