Now that this familiar source of interest was removed, she felt a little low and inclined to see more in Susan than she used to.

She had decided to give her a very handsome wedding present, a cheque for two hundred, two hundred and fifty, or possibly, conceivably--it depended upon the under-gardener and Huths' bill for doing up the drawing-room--three hundred pounds sterling.
She was thinking of this very question, revolving the figures, as she sat in her wheeled chair with a table spread with cards by her side.

The Patience had somehow got into a muddle, and she did not like to call for Susan to help her, as Susan seemed to be busy with Arthur.
"She's every right to expect a handsome present from me, of course," she thought, looking vaguely at the leopard on its hind legs, "and I've no doubt she does! Money goes a long way with every one.

The young are very selfish.

If I were to die, nobody would miss me but Dakyns, and she'll be consoled by the will! However, I've got no reason to complain.