or Dutch cheese, or ginger; finger nails shine like old cut glass, just
enough and not too much; figures are repressed or augmented until they
look more like figures and less like sacks of barley, or wood planks.
They are taught to sit down and stand up, and to cross, enter or leave
a room like humans instead of colts, to pitch the voice in a low and
gracious key, and to look upon slang as a luxury only to be enjoyed in
the absence of those in temporary power. In fact the establishment is
quite old-fashioned but infinitely charming, and has the reputation of
having more old pupils to a score of years happily or advantageously
married, and fewer ditto employed in a useful capacity than any other
school in Eastbourne.

Which is all as it should be!

"Yes! but," continued, let's call her Annie Smith; she does not appear
in the book again so that it really does not matter about her
nomenclature. "I could just see Leonie from my desk and she was
smiling all over her face and romping, simply _romping_ through the
French papers."

"Oh! but," sympathised, let us call her Susan Brown for the same reason
that we christened Annie Smith, "_she_ has a brain!"

Nice Susan Brown hadn't, but balanced the lack by a wealthy parentage.

"Yes! of course she has! And _isn't_ she beautiful!"

Nice Annie Smith was as plain as a bun, but balanced her defect by a
heart of gold, and found her ultimate and perfect joy in an overworked
curate and seven children by him, all of whom were destined to sit