It's not betraying a secret to affirm, cold-bloodedly, that Miss Fowler had not allied herself with the enterprise until after she had pinned Roxbury down to facts concerning Brock's antecedents.

She was properly relieved to find that he came of a fine old family and that he had led more than one cotillion in New York.
He experienced a remarkable change of front in respect to Roxbury Medcroft before the breakfast was over.

It may have been due to the spell of her eyes or to the call of her voice, but it remains an unchallenged fact that he no longer thought of Medcroft as a stupid bungler; instead, he had come to regard him as a good and irreproachable Samaritan.

All of which goes to prove that a divinity shapes our ends, rough hew them how we may.
"I'm sure we shall get on famously," he said, as she signified her desire to return to the compartment.

"I've always longed for a nice, agreeable sister-in-law." "Her mission in life, up to a certain stage, is to make the man appreciate the fact that he has, after all, been snapped up by a small but deserving family," she said blithely.