With his strength and skill, his robust common sense and rough shrewd wit, his prompt comparisons, his chivalry, his love of combat, his old knightly blood, was not he a match, and an overmatch, for the ramping Radical who had tangled Nevil in his rough snares?
She ran her mind over Mr.Romfrey's virtues, down even to his towering height and breadth.

Could she but once draw these two giants into collision in Nevil's presence, she was sure it would save him.

The method of doing it she did not stop to consider: she enjoyed her triumph in the idea.
Meantime she had passed from Dr.Shrapnel to Miss Denham, and carried on a conversation becomingly.
Tea had been made in the garden, and she had politely sipped half a cup, which involved no step inside the guilty house, and therefore no distress to her antagonism.

The sun descended.

She heard the doctor reciting.