Faithless, she is, ungrateful, perverse, but her innocence at least I will respect.

Maria, leave the room." Poor Miss Maria slipped away.

As she did so, she looked exactly like a crushed brown moth.

In the passage she stopped, glanced furtively around her, and then, shocking to relate, put her ear to the key-hole.

She felt both sore and angry; they were saying horrid things of Beatrice, and Miss Peters loved Beatrice.
Soon she went away, and burying her face in her little handkerchief, sobbed bitterly.
Inside the drawing-room, Mrs.Butler and Mrs.Gorman Stanley were holding awful conclave.
"You don't say, my dear, that she took the young man up to Miss Hart's _private_ room?
And who _is_ Miss Hart?
And what's all this fuss about?
No, I'm glad Maria isn't here! I always tried to do my duty by Maria, and a scandal of this kind she must not listen to.