Now we have the secret of her charm.
This helpless disdain was the natural expression of her face, and I am sure she fell asleep with a curl of the lip.

Her scorn of men so maddened them that they could not keep away from her.

"Damn!" they said under their breath, and rushed to her.

If rumour is to be believed, Sir Harry Pippinworth proposed to her in a fury brought on by the sneer with which she had surveyed his family portraits.

I know nothing more of Sir Harry, except that she called him Pips, which seems to settle him.
"They will be calling me the round gentleman," Tommy said ruefully to her that evening, as he strolled with her towards the lake, and indeed he was looking stout.