She had a comfortable figure, but was not stout, here a dimple and there a dimple.

Nothing could disturb her.

Children, servants, her husband's sermons, district visiting, her Tuesday "at homes," the butcher, the dean's wife, the wives of the canons, the Polchester climate, bills, clothes, other women's clothes--over all these rocks of peril in the sea of daily life her barque happily floated.

Some ill-natured people thought her stupid, but in her younger days she had liked Trollope's novels in the Cornhill, disapproved placidly of "Jane Eyre," and admired Tennyson, so that she could not be considered unliterary.
She was economical, warm-hearted, loved her children, talked only the gentlest scandal, and was a completely happy woman--all this in the placidest way in the world.

Miss Amy Trefusis, her sister, was very different, being thin both in her figure and her emotions.