He would dance, and ride, and shoot eagerly, with an animation that made him happy for the moment.

It was an affair not of thought or calculation, but of physical organisation.

And Marie Melmotte had been thoroughly happy.

She loved dancing with all her heart if she could only dance in a manner pleasant to herself.
She had been warned especially as to some men,--that she should not dance with them.

She had been almost thrown into Lord Nidderdale's arms, and had been prepared to take him at her father's bidding.