Helped by the unconscious alliance of Haddington, who thought Miss Bernard had let him alone quite long enough, she seized her opportunity, and said in the softest voice: "Father Stafford ?" Stafford turned his head, and found fixed upon him a pair of large, dark eyes, brimming over with mingled contrition and admiration.
"I am so sorry--but--but I thought you looked so ill." Stafford was unpleasantly conscious of being human.

The triumph of wickedness is a spectacle from which we may well avert our eyes.

Suffice it to say that a quarter of an hour later Claudia returned Eugene's glance with a look of triumph and scorn.
Meanwhile, trouble had arisen between the Bishop and Mr.Morewood.
Morewood was an artist of great ability, originality, and skill; and if he had not attained the honors of the Academy, it was perhaps more of his own fault than that of the exalted body in question, as he always treated it with an ostentatious contumely.

After all, the Academy must be allowed its feelings.

Moreover, his opinions on many subjects were known to be extreme, and he was not chary of displaying them.