Things happen slowly at Nunsmere--from the grasping of an idea to the pace of the church choir over the hymns.

Life there is no vulgar, tearing two-step, as it is in Godalming, London, and other vortices of human passions, but the stately measure of a minuet.

Delights are deliberate and have lingering ends.

A hen would scorn to hatch a chicken with the indecent haste of her sister in the next parish.
Six months passed, and Zora wondered what had become of them.

Only a few visits to London, where she had consorted somewhat gaily with Emmy's acquaintances, had marked their flight, and the gentle fingers of Nunsmere had graduated the reawakening of her nostalgia for the great world.