Morgan might again become their governess; lessons down at Teignmouth had been nothing like so oppressive as here at Champion Hill.
Tarrant, meanwhile, having drunk a cup of tea, and touched his moustache with a silk handkerchief, transferred himself from the camp-stool to the basket chair vacated by Jessica.

He was now further from Nancy, but facing her.
'I have been talking with Mrs.Bellamy,' fell from him, in the same tone of idle good nature.

'Do you know her?
She has but one subject of conversation; an engrossing topic, to be sure; namely, her servants.
Do you give much thought to the great servant question?
I have my own modest view of the matter.

It may not be novel, but my mind has worked upon it in the night watches.' Nancy, resolved not to smile, found herself smiling.

Not so much at what he said, as at the manner of it.