She's fair and forty--just about Buntingford's age--quite good-looking--quite clever--lives by herself, reads a great deal--runs the parish--you know the kind of thing.

They swarm! I think she would like to marry Cousin Philip, if he would let her." Mrs.Friend hurriedly shut the door at her back, which had been slightly ajar.

Helena laughed--the merry but very soft laugh Mrs.Friend had first heard in the hall--a laugh which seemed somehow out of keeping with the rest of its owner's personality.
"Don't be alarmed.

I doubt whether that would be news to anybody in this house! But Buntingford's quite her match.

Well, ta-ta.