She had nothing to do but to forgive herself and be happier than ever.

She was sensible and clever, but eager in everything; her sorrows, her joys, could have no moderation.

I wish I might take this for a compliment; but to be so easily seen through I am afraid is pitiful.

She was stronger alone; and her own good sense so well supported her, that her firmness was as unshaken, her appearance of cheerfulness as invariable, as, with regrets so poignant and so fresh, it was possible for them to be.

Portable property is happiness in a pocketbook.

One likes to hear what is to be going on, to be au fair with the newest modes of being trifling and silly.

And now I may dismiss my heroine to the sleepless couch, which is the true heroine's portion - to a pillow strewed with thorns and wet with tears. And lucky may she think herself, if she get another good night's rest in the course of the next three months.