In the eyes of the excellent Rogers I am horn-mad.

What my constituents would think did they see me taking the muddy air on a soggy afternoon, I have no conception.

Dale keeps them at bay.

He also baffles the curiosity of my sisters, and by his diplomacy has sent Eleanor Faversham on a huffy trip to Sicily.

She cannot understand why I bury myself in bleak solitude, instead of making cheerful holiday among the oranges and lemons of the South.
Eleanor is a girl with a thousand virtues, each of which she expects to find in counterpart in the man to whom she is affianced.