"How very nice!" said Gwendolen, with a concealed scepticism as to niceness in general, which made the word quite applicable to lawyers.
"Talking of Lord Brackenshaw's kindness," said Mrs. Davilow, "you don't know how delightful he has been, Gwendolen. He has begged me to consider myself his guest in this house till I can get another that I like--he did it in the most graceful way. But now a house has turned up. Old Mr. Jodson is dead, and we can have his house. It is just what I want; small, but with nothing hideous to make you miserable thinking about it. And it is only a mile from the Rectory. You remember the low white house nearly hidden by the trees, as we turn up the lane to the church?"
"Yes, but you have no furniture, poor mamma," said Gwendolen, in a melancholy tone.

"How very nice!" said Gwendolen.
"Talking of Lord Brackenshaw's kindness," said Mrs. Davilow, "he has begged me to consider myself his guest in this house till I can get another. But now a house has turned up. Old Mr. Jodson is dead, and we can have his. It is just what I want; small, but with nothing hideous to make you miserable thinking about it. And it is only a mile from the Rectory."
"But you have no furniture, poor mamma," said Gwendolen.
