Neither Polly nor Will tried to do anything of the sort, and that was the charm of it.
Nobody likes to be talked to, but nobody can resist the eloquence of unconscious preaching.

With all his thoughtlessness, Tom was quick to see and feel these things, and was not spoilt enough yet to laugh at them.

The sight of Will and Polly's simple affection for one another reminded him of a neglected duty so pleasantly, that he could not forget it.

Talking of early days made him wish he could go back and start again, doing better.

Grandma's name recalled the tender memory that always did him good, and the thought that Polly trusted her dearest brother to his care stirred up a manful desire to deserve the confidence.