She carried herself well, whereas her brother slouched, and there was a certain aristocratic dignity about her that she had acquired through her long engagement to a curate of family, a scion of the Wiltshire Edmondshaws. With his tongue lolling and his flea-bitten stump wagging apologetically, he glanced from face to face to see if there was any forgiveness visible. And this though he was evidently passionately in love with her. “I cannot conceive,” he said, “how any other occupation could ever have occurred to you. " "Hurt her? It would tear her to pieces; God knows she has had enough.
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