A recollection rose before Janet's mind of the eldest Miss Ford, with
the pretty pink and white empty face, and the demure, if slightly
supercilious, manner that befits one conscious of being an Archdeacon's
daughter. Janet knew her slightly, and admired her much. The eldest Miss
Ford's conversation was always markedly suitable. Her sense of propriety
was only equalled by her desire to impart information. Her slightly
clerical manner resembled the full-blown Archidiaconal deportment of her
parent, as home-made marmalade resembles an orange. Archdeacon Ford was
a pompous, much-respected prelate, with private means. Mrs Smith was
distantly related to the Fords, and very proud of the connection. She
seldom alluded to the eldest Miss Ford without remarking that Venetia
was her ideal of what a perfect lady should be.