"How is it that he does it ?" said John Eames to himself, envying the perfect happiness of the London man of fashion.
At last Lily got the dancers out upon the lawn, and then they managed to go through one quadrille.

But it was found that it did not answer.
The music of the single fiddle which Crosbie had hired from Guestwick was not sufficient for the purpose; and then the grass, though it was perfect for purposes of croquet, was not pleasant to the feet for dancing.
"This is very nice," said Bernard to his cousin.

"I don't know anything that could be nicer; but perhaps--" "I know what you mean," said Lily.

"But I shall stay here.

There's no touch of romance about any of you.