The shape of her face is awfully pretty--and her eyes.

Is her hair like mine ?' 'No, not nearly so good.' 'Ah, if I could only do it as prettily as she does!' said Phoebe, faintly smiling.

'I suppose, John, she's very smart and fashionable ?' 'Well, she's Lord Findon's daughter--that tells you.

They're pretty well at the top.' Phoebe asked various other questions, then fell silent, still pondering the sketches.

After a while she put down her work and came to sit on a stool beside Fenwick, sometimes laying her golden head against his knee, or stretching out her hand to touch his.