Sir Leicester is twenty years, full measure, older than my Lady. He will never see sixty-five again, nor perhaps sixty-six, nor yet sixty-seven. He has a twist of the gout now and then and walks a little stiffly. He is of a worthy presence, with his light-grey hair and whiskers, his fine shirt-frill, his pure-white waistcoat, and his blue coat with bright buttons always buttoned. He is ceremonious, stately, most polite on every occasion to my Lady, and holds her personal attractions in the highest estimation. His gallantry to my Lady, which has never changed since he courted her, is the one little touch of romantic fancy in him.
Indeed, he married her for love. A whisper still goes about that she had not even family; howbeit, Sir Leicester had so much family that perhaps he had enough and could dispense with any more. But she had beauty, pride, ambition, insolent resolve, and sense enough to portion out a legion of fine ladies. Wealth and station, added to these, soon floated her upward, and for years now my Lady Dedlock has been at the centre of the fashionable intelligence and at the top of the fashionable tree.

Sir Leicester is twenty years older than my Lady. He is nearly seventy. He has gout now and then and walks a little stiffly. He is ceremonious, stately, most polite to my Lady, and holds her personal attractions in the highest esteem. His gallantry to my Lady, which has never changed since he courted her, is the one little touch of romantic fancy in him.
Indeed, he married her for love. It is said that she had no family; however, Sir Leicester had so much family that perhaps he could dispense with any more. But she had beauty, pride, ambition, insolent resolve, and sense. Wealth and position, added to these, soon floated her upward, and for years now my Lady Dedlock has been at the top of the fashionable tree.
