"Well, Becky would have made a good Lady Crawley, after all," Miss Crawley remarked (who was mollified by the girl's refusal, and very liberal and generous now there was no call for her sacrifices). "She has brains in plenty (much more wit in her little finger than you have, my poor dear Briggs, in all your head). Her manners are excellent, now I have formed her. She is a Montmorency, Briggs, and blood is something, though I despise it for my part; and she would have held her own amongst those pompous stupid Hampshire people much better than that unfortunate ironmonger's daughter."
Briggs coincided as usual, and the "previous attachment" was then discussed in conjectures. "You poor friendless creatures are always having some foolish tendre," Miss Crawley said. "You yourself, you know, were in love with a writing-master (don't cry, Briggs--you're always crying, and it won't bring him to life again), and I suppose this unfortunate Becky has been silly and sentimental too--some apothecary, or house-steward, or painter, or young curate, or something of that sort."

"Well, Becky would have made a good Lady Crawley, after all," Miss Crawley remarked, mollified by the girl's refusal. "She has brains in plenty, and her manners are excellent, now I have formed her. She is a Montmorency, Briggs, and blood is something, though I despise it for my part."
Briggs agreed as usual.
"As for an attachment - you poor friendless creatures are always having some foolish tendre," Miss Crawley said. "You yourself were in love with a writing-master (don't cry, Briggs - it won't bring him to life again). I suppose Becky has been silly and sentimental too - some apothecary, or young curate, or something of that sort."
