His resources were of a different character, and were so skillfully managed that he never failed to leave a very agreeable impression.

Small-talk! Why, I've been in situations sometimes where I would have given the power of writing like Dickens (if I had it) for perfection in this last art.
But this careless, easy, limpid, smooth, natural, pleasant, and agreeable flow of chat was nothing but gall and wormwood to the listener above.

She ought to be there.

Why was she so slighted?
Could it be possible that he would go away without seeing her?
She was soon to know.
She heard him rise.

She heard him saunter to the door.
"Thanks, yes.