And _he_ was not unimportant, not uninteresting.

I should have thought they would have talked of nothing else.
My grandmother was very busy in these days.

All the old friendships which she had let slip were to be taken up again for me.

She spent much time at her desk, and the postbag for the Abbey began to contain many delicate, fragrant epistles.
"I am only sorry, Bawn," she said, looking up at me over her shoulder as I stood behind her chair, "that we cannot open the town-house for you and give a ball for you there.

It is what ought to be done, but, of course, it is out of the question.