It sometimes happens that a woman is handsomer at twenty-nine than she was ten years before;
her father had found little to admire in her,
Mary had acquired a little artificial importance, by becoming Mrs Charles Musgrove; but Anne, with an elegance of mind and sweetness of character, which must have placed her high with any people of real understanding, was nobody with either father or sister; her word had no weight, her convenience was always to give way – she was only Anne.