He had lately discovered that he was nearsighted, to the great grief of his mother, who, however, sometimes spoke of the sad fact in the same tone that she used to speak of the Rice Rice, and Morgan of Glanwilliam families.

She herself belonged to the latter.
'I vow she's lovely!' cried the baronet, so emphatically that every one in the room might have heard him.

Most of the ladies, doubtless, did, and appropriated the sentiment, but, by-and-by, Netta was triumphant, as he went and sat by her, and complimented her in very audible terms.
She blushed and coquetted very respectably for a country damsel, and wondered whether a poor baronet, or a wealthy miser's son would best help her to humble the pride and condescension of the Nugents and the Rice Rices.
Whilst Lady Mary Nugent was playing, Mr Gwynne very nearly went to sleep, and Rowland Prothero, who liked nothing but chants, and a solemn kind of music that he chose to think befitting a clergyman, was, in his turn, looking over the drawing-room scrap book.

Miss Gwynne gave her papa a sly push, and whispered, that she believed Mr Rowland Prothero played chess.
Mr Gwynne aroused himself, and challenged his young neighbour.

Miss Gwyne, assisted by all the gentlemen, brought the chess-table, and the game soon began.
There is no doubt that there is nothing in the world more selfish, more absorbing, more disagreeable to every one excepting the players, than chess.