What she wants is someone gay, laid on, to divert her all the time from her own inanity." "Hilda, how wonderfully quick you are at reading these things! I see you are right; but I could never have guessed so much myself from such small premises." "Well, what can you expect, my dear boy?
A girl like this, brought up in a country rectory, a girl of no intellect, busy at home with the fowls, and the pastry, and the mothers' meetings--suddenly married offhand to a wealthy man, and deprived of the occupations which were her salvation in life, to be plunged into the whirl of a London season, and stranded at its end for want of the diversions which, by dint of use, have become necessaries of life to her!" "Now, Hilda, you are practising upon my credulity.

You can't possibly tell from her look that she was brought up in a country rectory." "Of course not.

You forget.

There my memory comes in.

I simply remember it." "You remember it?
How ?" "Why, just in the same way as I remembered your name and your mother's when I was first introduced to you.