She found nothing to correct in Mr.Sowerby, and her father was open to all the censures; but her father could plead vitality, passion.

He held his performances cheap after the vehement display; he was a happy listener, whether to the babble of his 'dear old Corelli,' or to the majesty of the rattling heavens and swaying forests of Beethoven.
His air of listening was a thing to see; it had a look of disembodiment; the sparkle conjured up from deeps, and the life in the sparkle, as of a soul at holiday.

Eyes had been given this man to spy the pleasures and reveal the joy of his pasture on them: gateways to the sunny within, issues to all the outer Edens.

Few of us possess that double significance of the pure sparkle.

It captivated Lady Grace.