In some of her ladyship's repartees, however, Lord Colambre now acknowledged there was more than unexpectedness; there was real wit; but it was of a sort utterly unfit for a woman, and he was sorry that Lady Isabel should hear it.

In short, exceptionable as it was altogether, Lady Dashfort's conversation had become entertaining to him; and though he could never esteem or feel in the least interested about her, he began to allow that she could be agreeable.
'Ay, I knew how it would be,' said she, when some of her friends told her this.

'He began by detesting me, and did I not tell you that, if I thought it worth my while to make him like me, he must, sooner or later.
I delight in seeing people begin with me as they do with olives, making all manner of horrid faces and silly protestations that they will never touch an olive again as long as they live; but, after a little time, these very folk grow so desperately fond of olives, that there is no dessert without them.

Isabel, child, you are in the sweet line--but sweets cloy.

You never heard of anybody living on marmalade, did ye ?'--Lady Isabel answered by a sweet smile.--'To do you justice, you play Lydia Languish vastly well,' pursued the mother; 'but Lydia, by herself, would soon tire; somebody must keep up the spirit and bustle, and carry on the plot of the piece; and I am that somebody--as you shall see.