The return of Mr Casby with his daughter Flora, put an end to these meditations.
Flora, whom he had left a lily, had become a peony; but that was not much.
Flora, who had seemed enchanting in all she said and thought, was diffuse and silly.
Flora, who had been spoiled and artless long ago, was determined to be spoiled and artless now.
Here Flora tittered confusedly, and gave him one of her old glances.
Flora had at last talked herself out of breath for one moment.
The Patriarch insisted on his staying to dinner, and Flora signalled 'Yes!'
As naturally, he could not walk on thinking for ten minutes without recalling Flora.
As Flora dropped into hers, she bestowed the old look upon him.
Flora put her hand tenderly on his, and gave him another of the youthful glances.