Miss Shepherd makes a face as she goes by, and laughs to her companion.

All is over.

The devotion of a life--it seems a life, it is all the same--is at an end; Miss Shepherd comes out of the morning service, and the Royal Family know her no more.
I am higher in the school, and no one breaks my peace.

I am not at all polite, now, to the Misses Nettingalls' young ladies, and shouldn't dote on any of them, if they were twice as many and twenty times as beautiful.

I think the dancing-school a tiresome affair, and wonder why the girls can't dance by themselves and leave us alone.