And this malady raged the more powerfully with him on account of breaking out so late in life.

In one of the picture-galleries at Florence, or some such place, Mrs.Price declared, he met with a lady who made all the pictures look cold and dull and dead to him.

A lovely young creature she must have been (as even Mrs.Price, who detested her, acknowledged), and to the eyes of a learned but not keen man as good as lovely.

My father was gone to look after me, and fetch me out of England, but even if he had been there, perhaps he scarcely could have stopped it; for this Mr.Castlewood, although so quiet, had the family fault of tenacity.
Mrs.Price, being a very steady person, with a limited income, and enough to do, was inclined to look down upon the state of mind in which Mr.Castlewood became involved.

She was not there at the moment, of course, but suddenly sent for when all was settled; nevertheless, she found out afterward how it began from her master's man, through what he had for dinner.