"You see I'm not tired--yet; and I've done no work." "That is why it's such a rest to look at you," said John, smiling.
"Flowers have their place in creation as vegetables have theirs.

But we only ask the flowers to bloom peacefully in sheltered gardens; we don't insist on popping them into the soup with the onions and carrots." Lady Mary laughed as though she had not a care in the world.
"It is quite refreshing to find that a big-wig like you can talk just as much nonsense as a little-wig like me," she said; "but you don't know, for all that, what the silence and monotony of life here _can_ be.

The very voice of a stranger falls like music on one's ears.

I was so glad to see you, and you were so kind and sympathetic about--my boy.

And then, all in a moment, my joy was turned into mourning, wasn't it?
And Peter is going to the war, and it's all like a dreadful dream; except that I know I shall wake up every morning only to realize more strongly that it's true." John remembered that he was dallying with his mission, instead of fulfilling it.
"Sir Timothy cannot go to see his son off?
That must be a grief to him," he said.
"No; he isn't coming.