She was a little dilapidated--like a house--with having been so long to let; yet had, as I have said, an appearance of good looks.

Her thinness seemed to be the effect of some wasting fire within her, which found a vent in her gaunt eyes.
She was introduced as Miss Dartle, and both Steerforth and his mother called her Rosa.

I found that she lived there, and had been for a long time Mrs.Steerforth's companion.

It appeared to me that she never said anything she wanted to say, outright; but hinted it, and made a great deal more of it by this practice.

For example, when Mrs.Steerforth observed, more in jest than earnest, that she feared her son led but a wild life at college, Miss Dartle put in thus: 'Oh, really?
You know how ignorant I am, and that I only ask for information, but isn't it always so?
I thought that kind of life was on all hands understood to be--eh ?' 'It is education for a very grave profession, if you mean that, Rosa,' Mrs.Steerforth answered with some coldness.
'Oh! Yes! That's very true,' returned Miss Dartle.