Explore "A Waif's Progress" by Rhoda Broughton on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Felicity was as good as her word; nor was there any delay in setting the restored acolyte to her destined labours.
"I am afraid you will not find it very gay," Lady Bletchley had said, "but what with this mourning" -- glancing at the very diluted ink of her attire -- "and the terrible _corvée_ of getting into the new house, I really cannot be bothered with society just now. However" -- with a consolatory shrug -- "it cannot well be duller than Stillington, where I suppose you literally never set eyes upon any one except the Aylmers."