Horace, in silent astonishment, advanced to the sofa to observe her more nearly.

"How grave you look!" she exclaimed, with an air of flippant unconcern.

"You don't approve of my sitting idle, perhaps?
Anything to please you! _I_ haven't got to go up and downstairs.

Ring the bell again." "My dear Grace," Horace remonstrated, gravely, "you are quite mistaken.
I never even thought of your work." "Never mind; it's inconsistent to send for my work, and then send it away again.

Ring the bell." Horace looked at her without moving.