She had not thought of Walter as clever.

She had only thought of him as good.

That one quality of goodness had swallowed up the rest.
Miss Proctor took possession of her where she sat in the drawing-room, as it were amid the scattered fragments of the ex-member (he still, among the ladies, emitted a feeble radiance).

Miss Proctor had always approved of Anne.

If Anne had no metropolitan distinction to speak of, she was not in the least provincial.