Mr.
Goren would talk of trade, and compare Lymport business with London, and the Countess, loftily interested in his remarks, drew him out to disgust her brother.

Mrs.Wishaw, in whom the Countess at once discovered a frivolous pretentious woman of the moneyed trading class, she treated as one who was alive to society, and surveyed matters from a station in the world, leading her to think that she tolerated Mr.Goren, as a lady-Christian of the highest rank should tolerate the insects that toil for us.

Mrs.Fiske was not so tractable, for Mrs.Fiske was hostile and armed.

Mrs.Fiske adored the great Mel, and she had never loved Louisa.
Hence, she scorned Louisa on account of her late behaviour toward her dead parent.

The Countess saw through her, and laboured to be friendly with her, while she rendered her disagreeable in the eyes of Mrs.
Wishaw, and let Mrs.Wishaw perceive that sympathy was possible between them; manoeuvring a trifle too delicate, perhaps, for the people present, but sufficient to blind its keen-witted author to the something that was being concealed from herself, of which something, nevertheless, her senses apprehensively warned her: and they might have spoken to her wits, but that mortals cannot, unaided, guess, or will not, unless struck in the face by the fact, credit, what is to their minds the last horror.
'I came down in the coach, quite accidental, with this gentleman,' said Mrs.Wishaw, fanning a cheek and nodding at Mr.Goren.