Look how he brandishes his arm to display his cuffs and gold links.

Now he touches his hair, to point out how light and exquisite it is, and how beautifully he parts it!' 'What a graceful figure!' murmured Mrs.Warricombe, with genuine admiration.
'There, that's just what he hopes everyone is saying,' replied her son, in a tone of laughing disgust.
'But he certainly is graceful, Buckland,' persisted the lady.
'And in the meantime,' remarked Mr.Warricombe, drily, 'we are all awaiting the young gentleman's pleasure.' 'Of course; he enjoys it.

Almost all the people on that row belong to him--father, mother, sisters, brothers, uncles, aunts, and cousins to the fourth degree.

Look at their eyes fondly fixed upon him! Now he pretends to loosen his collar at the throat, just for a change of attitude--the puppy!' 'My dear!' remonstrated his mother, with apprehensive glance at her neighbours.
'But he is really clever, isn't he, Buckland ?' asked the sister, her name was Sidwell.
'After a fashion.

I shouldn't wonder if he takes a dozen or two prizes.
It's all a knack, you know.' 'Where is your friend Peak ?' Mr.Warricombe made inquiry.
But at this moment Mr.Chilvers abandoned his endeavour and became seated, allowing the Principal to rise, manuscript in hand.