Pride had upheld her so far, but underneath the pride lay a very sore heart.

To anyone as sensitive as Nan, whose own lovableness had always hitherto evoked both love and friendship as naturally as flowers open to the sun, it was a new and bewildering experience to be disliked.

She did not know how to meet it.

It hurt inexpressibly, and she was tired of being hurt.
She hesitated nervously outside the morning-room door, whence issued the soft clink of china and a murmur of voices.

The clock in the hall had struck the hour five minutes ago.