There 's an admiral down Hampshire way, a place I've been near and seen.

I'd not have you go to any of them, sir, without trying all we can do to find Lord Fleetwood.

It's Admiral Fakenham she speaks of; she's fond of him.

She's not minded to bother any of her friends about herself.' 'I shall see you to-night,' said Gower, and set his face Westward, remembering that his father had named Caermarthen as her mother's birthplace.
Just in that tone of hers do Welshwomen talk of their country; of its history, when at home, of its mountains, when exiled: and in a language like hers, bare of superlatives to signify an ardour conveyed by the fire of the breath.

Her quick devotion to a lady exciting enthusiasm through admiring pity for the grace of a much-tried quiet sweetness, was explained; apart from other reasons, feminine or hidden, which might exist.