I dunno as she has so much to be proud of, though she's handsome enough, and shows her bringin' up, as folks can't that ain't had it." Fanny winced a little; her bringing up was a sore subject with her.
"Well, folks can't help their bringin' up," she retorted, sharply.
"There's Lloyd's team," Andrew said, quickly, partly to avert the impending tongue-clash between his wife and mother.
He reined his horse to one side at a respectful distance, and Norman H.Lloyd, with his wife at his side, swept by in his fine sleigh, streaming on the wind with black fur tails, his pair of bays stepping high to the music of their arches of bells.

The Brewsters eyed Norman Lloyd's Russian coat with the wide sable collar turned up around his proud, clear-cut face, the fur-gauntleted hands which held the lines and the whip, for Mr.Lloyd preferred to drive his own blooded pair, both from a love of horseflesh and a greater confidence in his own guidance than in that of other people.

Mr.
Lloyd was no coward, but he would have confided to no man his sensations had he sat behind those furnaces of fiery motion with other hands than his own upon the lines.
"I should think Mis' Lloyd would be afraid to ride with such horses," said Mrs.Zelotes, as they leaped aside in passing; then she bowed and smiled with eager pleasure, and yet with perfect self-respect.

She felt herself every whit as good as Mrs.Norman Lloyd, and her handsome Paisley shawl and velvet bonnet as genteel as the other woman's sealskins and floating plumes.

Mrs.Lloyd loomed up like a vast figure of richness enveloped in her bulky winter wraps; her face was superb with health and enjoyment and good-humor.