But the evil of it is that it is a world wrapped up in too much jeweller's cotton and fine wool, and cannot hear the rushing of the larger worlds, and cannot see them as they circle round the sun.

It is a deadened world, and its growth is sometimes unhealthy for want of air.
My Lady Dedlock has returned to her house in town for a few days previous to her departure for Paris, where her ladyship intends to stay some weeks, after which her movements are uncertain.

The fashionable intelligence says so for the comfort of the Parisians, and it knows all fashionable things.

To know things otherwise were to be unfashionable.

My Lady Dedlock has been down at what she calls, in familiar conversation, her "place" in Lincolnshire.