But she scanned her gauntlets disapprovingly.

This town, we are glad to think, has a bright repute for glove-shops.

And Mrs.Marsett could applaud herself for sparing Ned's money; she had mended her gloves, if they were in the fashion .-- But how does the money come?
Hark at that lady and that gentleman questioning Miss Radnor of everything, everything in the world about her! Not a word do they get from Miss Radnor.

And it makes them the more inquisitive.

Idle rich people, comfortably fenced round, are so inquisitive! And Mrs.Marsett, loving Nesta for the notice of her, maddened by the sting of tongues it was causing, heard the wash of the beach, without consciousness of analogies, but with a body ready to jump out of skin, out of life, in desperation at the sound.
She was all impulse; a shifty piece of unmercenary stratagem occasionally directing it.