It is impossible to account for the peculiarities of physical vanity.

Probably no one was ever born who had not physical vanity of some kind; Susan's was her feet and ankles.
Not her eyes, nor her hair, nor her contour, nor her skin, nor her figure, though any or all of these might well have been her pleasure.

Of them she never thought in the way of pride or vanity.

But of her feet and ankles she was both proud and vain--in a reserved, wholly unobtrusive way, be it said, so quietly that she had passed unsuspected.

There was reason for this shy, secret self-satisfaction, so amusing in one otherwise self-unconscious.