On her face, I saw immediately the placid and sweet expression of the lady whose picture had looked at me downstairs.

It seemed to my imagination as if the portrait had grown womanly, and the original remained a child.
Although her face was quite bright and happy, there was a tranquillity about it, and about her--a quiet, good, calm spirit--that I never have forgotten; that I shall never forget.

This was his little housekeeper, his daughter Agnes, Mr.Wickfield said.

When I heard how he said it, and saw how he held her hand, I guessed what the one motive of his life was.
She had a little basket-trifle hanging at her side, with keys in it; and she looked as staid and as discreet a housekeeper as the old house could have.

She listened to her father as he told her about me, with a pleasant face; and when he had concluded, proposed to my aunt that we should go upstairs and see my room.