Grace. [With the superiority of one who is not too popular.] Men admire her.
Miss Heneage. She's not conventional.
Mrs. Phillimore. [Showing a faint sense of justice.] I am bound to say she has behaved discreetly ever since she arrived in this house.
Miss Heneage. Yes, Mary—but I sometimes suspect that she exercises a degree of self-control—
Sudley. [Glad to have something against some one.] She claps on the lid, eh? And you think that perhaps some day she'll boil over? Well, of course fifteen or twenty millions—but who's Karslake?
Grace. [Very superciliously.] He owns Cynthia K. She's the famous mare.
Miss Heneage. He's Henry Karslake's son.
Sudley. [Beginning to make the best of fifteen millions-in-law.] Oh!—Henry!—Very respectable family. Although I remember his father served a term in the Senate. And so the wedding is to be to-morrow?
Mrs. Phillimore. [Assenting.] To-morrow.
Sudley. [Rising, his respectability to the front when he thinks of the ceremony. Grace rises.] To-morrow. Well, my dear Sarah, a respectable family with some means. We must accept her. But on the whole, I think it will be best for me not to see the young woman. My disapprobation would make itself apparent.