Altogether the vision did indeed look to the lawyer as one from a fairer world than this.
"My daughter, Mr.Carlyle, the Lady Isabel." They took their seats at the table, Lord Mount Severn at its head, in spite of his gout and his footstool.

And the young lady and Mr.Carlyle opposite each other.

Mr.Carlyle had not deemed himself a particular admirer of women's beauty, but the extraordinary loveliness of the young girl before him nearly took away his senses and his self-possession.

Yet it was not so much the perfect contour or the exquisite features that struck him, or the rich damask of the delicate cheek, or the luxuriant falling hair; no, it was the sweet expression of the soft dark eyes.
Never in his life had he seen eyes so pleasing.

He could not keep his gaze from her, and he became conscious, as he grew more familiar with her face, that there was in its character a sad, sorrowful look; only at times was it to be noticed, when the features were at repose, and it lay chiefly in the very eyes he was admiring.