He had half an hour's talk with her; a farewell talk, as it seemed to him--a farewell not to a real illusion, but to the idea that for him, in that matter, there could ever be an acceptable pis-aller.

He congratulated Miss Blanchard upon her engagement, and she received his compliment with a touch of primness.
But she was always a trifle prim, even when she was quoting Mrs.
Browning and George Sand, and this harmless defect did not prevent her responding on this occasion that Mr.Leavenworth had a "glorious heart." Rowland wished to manifest an extreme regard, but toward the end of the talk his zeal relaxed, and he fell a-thinking that a certain natural ease in a woman was the most delightful thing in the world.

There was Christina Light, who had too much, and here was Miss Blanchard, who had too little, and there was Mary Garland (in whom the quality was wholly uncultivated), who had just the right amount.
He went to Madame Grandoni in an adjoining room, where she was pouring out tea.
"I will make you an excellent cup," she said, "because I have forgiven you." He looked at her, answering nothing; but he swallowed his tea with great gusto, and a slight deepening of his color; by all of which one would have known that he was gratified.

In a moment he intimated that, in so far as he had sinned, he had forgiven himself.
"She is a lovely girl," said Madame Grandoni.

"There is a great deal there.