A veil seemed to lie over her deep, heavy-lidded eyes, and over features that had now delicacy and bloom, but promised much more--something far beyond any mere girlish prettiness.

She was tall and finely made, and for the school tableaux in which she had frequently helped she had been generally cast for such parts as 'Nausicaa among her maidens,' 'Athene lighting the way for Odysseus and Telemachus,' 'Dante's Beatrice,' or any other personage requiring dignity, even a touch of majesty.
Flowing skirts, indeed, at once made a queen of her.

It was evident that she was not at her ease with her father; nor, as yet, with her father's new secretary.
The contrast between this lady and Pamela Mannering was obvious at once.

If Pamela suggested romance, Elizabeth Bremerton suggested efficiency, cheerfulness, and the practical life.

Her grandmother had been Dutch, and in Elizabeth the fair skin and yellow-gold hair (Rembrandt's 'Saskia' shows the type) of many Dutch forebears had reappeared.