She grew up a most accomplished and lovely girl; the greatest fault that could be found with her was that she was terribly unreal.

She knew nothing of the practical part of life.

She idealized every one so completely that she never really understood any one.
Lord Ridsdale wondered often what he was to do with this beautiful and gifted girl when her school days were ended.
"She must be introduced to the world then," he thought; "and I fervently hope she'll soon be married." But as her coming to Ridsdale House would cause so great an alteration in his way of life, he deferred that event as long as it was possible to do so.
When Adelaide Lyster came as a governess-pupil to Miss Carleton's school Marion Arleigh was just sixteen.

Miss Lyster was not long before she knew the rank and social importance of her beautiful young pupil.
"When you have the world at your feet," she would say to her sometimes, "I shall ask you a favor." "Ask me now!" said Marion, and then Miss Lyster told her how she had a brother--a genius--an artist--whose talent equaled that of Raphael, but that he was unknown to the world and had no one to take an interest in his fortunes.
"One word from you when you are a great lady will be of more value to my brother than even the praise of critics," she would say; and Miss Arleigh, flattered by the speech, would promise that word should be spoken.

Adelaide Lyster spent long hours in talking of her brother--of his genius, his struggles, his thirst for appreciation; the portrait she drew of him was so beautiful that Marion Arleigh longed to know him.