Ah, well, Lady Mary was old-fashioned.

He hoped the young widow might be useful; but he had his doubts.

She looked a weak vessel to be matching herself with anything so handsome and so pronounced as the young lady opposite.
Why, the young lady was already quarrelling with her guardian! For the whole table had suddenly become aware of a gust in the neighbourhood of Lord Buntingford--a gust of heated talk--although the only heated person seemed to be Miss Pitstone.

Lord Buntingford was saying very little; but whatever he did say was having a remarkable effect on his neighbour.
Then, before the table knew what it was all about, it was over.

Lord Buntingford had turned resolutely away, and was devoting himself to conversation with Lady Cynthia, while his ward was waging a fresh war of repartee with the distinguished soldier beside her, in which her sharpened tones and quick breathing suggested the swell after a storm.
Mrs.Friend too had noticed.