Of course she had to be very careful how she walked, when she sat down, in what way she moved her hands and feet, and how she blew her nose.

It was wonderful to see her do these things, she did them so naturally and yet always with a sense of an effort overcome for the good of humanity.

Her mother never ceased to empty praises at her feet, appealing to visitors with: "Isn't Charlotte too lovely to-day ?" or "Really, Mrs.Cole, did you ever see anything like Charlotte's hair ?" or "Just a moment, Mrs.Cole, I'm sure you've never seen such hands and feet on any human being before!"-- and it was impossible to tell whether or no Charlotte was moved by these praises, because she never said anything at all.

She was almost completely silent, and once, at the tea-gathering in Cow Farm, when she suddenly said: "I'm tired, Mama," Jeremy nearly jumped from his chair, so astonished he was.
Jeremy had, during the year that intervened between that visit and this, sometimes thought of Charlotte, and he had looked back upon her, not as a little girl but as something strange, fantastic, wonderfully coloured, whom it would be interesting to see again.

He wondered why Mary and Helen could not be like that, instead of running about and screaming and becoming red in the face.