"A friend in my mother's house ?" he asked.
"Certainly!" "Who is it ?" "Miss Minerva." "What!" His tone expressed such immeasurable amazement, that Carmina's sense of justice was roused in defence of her new friend.
"If I began by wronging Miss Minerva, I had the excuse of being a stranger," she said, warmly.

"You have known her for years, and you ought to have found out her good qualities long since! Are all men alike, I wonder?
Even my kind dear father used to call ugly women the inexcusable mistakes of Nature.

Poor Miss Minerva says herself she is ugly, and expects everybody to misjudge her accordingly.

I don't misjudge her, for one.

Teresa has left me; and you are going away next.
A miserable prospect, Ovid, but not quite without hope.