Elizabeth Gaskell

“ Lady Cumnor was too much of a lady not to apologize for useless trouble, but they were nearly the last words she spoke to Mrs Gibson, for she had to go out and drive with the duchess; and the brougham to take 'Clare' (as she persisted in calling Mrs. Gibson) back to Hollingford, followed the carriage to the door. Lady Harriet came away from her entourage of young men and young ladies, all prepared for some walking expedition, to wish Mrs. Gibson good-by.
'We shall see you at the ball,' she said. 'You'll be there with your two girls, of course, and I must have a little talk with you there ”

“ Preston,' said she, in answer to Molly. 'I shall not dance with him; and here go his flowers—'
Into the very middle of the embers, which she immediately stirred down upon the beautiful shrivelling petals as if she wished to annihilate them as soon as possible. Her voice had never been raised; it was as sweet as usual; nor, though her movements were prompt enough, were they hasty or violent.
'Oh!' said Molly, 'those beautiful flowers! We might have put them in water.'
'No,' said Cynthia; 'it's best to destroy them. We don't want them ”

“ Gibson. In the early afternoon she came home. If she had been disappointed in her interview with the countess she never told her woe, nor revealed the fact that when she first arrived at the Towers she had to wait for an hour in Lady Cumnor's morning-room, uncheered by any companionship save that of her old friend Mrs. Bradley, till suddenly, Lady Harriet coming in, she exclaimed, 'Why, Clare! you dear woman! are you here all alone? ”

“ Oh! how do you get on with the step-daughter. She seemed to me to be a young lady with a pretty stubborn will of her own. I put a letter for the post down somewhere, and I cannot think where; do help me to look for it, there's a good woman. ”

“ but when she caught the innocent, wistful look on Molly's face, she instinctively checked what she was going to say, and, half-smiling to her own reflection in the glass, she said,—'The French girls would tell you, to believe that you were pretty would make you so.'
Molly paused before replying,—
'I suppose they would mean that if you knew you were pretty, you would never think about your looks; ”

“ So the ladders of whitewashers and painters were sadly in the way of the ladies tripping daintily along to make their purchases, and holding their gowns up in a bunch behind, after a fashion quite gone out in these days.' The housekeeper and steward from the Towers might also be seen coming in to give orders at the various shops ”