If Randolph had not appertained to these, had not centred all his interests in them, had not cared exclusively for the class they belonged to, how happy would things have been! A great huzza at some small performance with the bat burst from the multitude of relatives, and Randolph jumped wildly into the air to see what had happened.

Sophy fetched up the sentence that had been already shaped; but she could not get it out.

The occasion was, perhaps, an inopportune one.

The contrast between her story and the display of fashion to which Randolph had grown to regard himself as akin would be fatal.

She awaited a better time.
It was on an evening when they were alone in their plain suburban residence, where life was not blue but brown, that she ultimately broke silence, qualifying her announcement of a probable second marriage by assuring him that it would not take place for a long time to come, when he would be living quite independently of her.
The boy thought the idea a very reasonable one, and asked if she had chosen anybody?
She hesitated; and he seemed to have a misgiving.