She was vain; she was somewhat of a barbarian; she loved nobody and nobody's opinion as she loved herself and her own opinion.

Though, if any people really cared for her, and she for them, they were the Regimental Surgeon and Shangois the notary.
Once, as they walked on, she turned and looked back at the Manor House, but only for an instant.

He caught the glance, and said: "You'll like to live there, won't you ?" "I don't know," she answered almost sharply.

"But if the Casimbaults liked it, I don't see why we shouldn't." There was a challenge in her voice, defiance in the little toss of her head.

He liked her spirit in spite of the vanity.