Such assiduity covered Miss Keeldar with distinction. Her uncle's prophetic soul anticipated a splendid future. He already scented the time afar off when, with nonchalant air, and left foot nursed on his right knee, he should be able to make dashingly-familiar allusion to his "nephew the baronet." Now his niece dawned upon him no longer "a mad girl," but a "most sensible woman." He termed her, in confidential dialogues with Mrs. Sympson, "a truly superior person; peculiar, but very clever." He treated her with exceeding deference; rose reverently to open and shut doors for her; reddened his face and gave himself headaches with stooping to pick up gloves, handkerchiefs, and other loose property, whereof Shirley usually held but insecure tenure. He would cut mysterious jokes about the superiority of woman's wit over man's wisdom; commence obscure apologies for the blundering mistake he had committed respecting the generalship, the tactics, of "a personage not a hundred miles from Fieldhead." In short, he seemed elate as any "midden-cock on pattens."

Shirley's uncle foresaw the splendid time when he should be able to allude nonchalantly to his "nephew the baronet." Now his niece appeared to him no longer "a mad girl," but a "most sensible woman: peculiar, but very clever." He treated her with deference; he made mysterious jokes about the superiority of woman's wit over man's wisdom; and remarked on the generalship, the tactics, of "a person not a hundred miles from Fieldhead." In short, he was elated.
