The poor man did not know what the ice was for, so took a lump and put it in his soup." Elisabeth laughed.
"The younger officers began to giggle, as you are doing," Miss Farringdon continued; "but the colonel, to whom the ice was handed next, took a lump and put it in his soup also; and then the young officers did not want to laugh any more.

The colonel was a perfect gentleman." "It seems to me," said Elisabeth thoughtfully, "that you've got to be good before you can be polite." "Politeness appears to be what goodness really is," replied Miss Farringdon, "and is an attitude rather than an action.

Fine breeding is not the mere learning of any code of manners, any more than gracefulness is the mere learning of any kind of physical exercise.

The gentleman apparently, as the Christian really, looks not on his own things, but on the things of others; and the selfish person is always both unchristian and ill-bred." Elisabeth gazed wistfully up into Miss Farringdon's face.

"I should like to be a real gentlewoman, Cousin Maria; do you think I ever shall be ?" "I think it quite possible, if you bear all these maxims in mind, and if you carry yourself properly and never stoop.