She had a delicate touch, and played soft music, such as soothes, not excites the soul.

Arnold watched her, not the old men.

How was it that refinement, grave, self-possession, manners, and the culture of a lady, could be found in one who knew no ladies?
But then Arnold did not know Lala Roy, nor did he understand the old bookseller.
"You are always wondering about me," she said, talking while she played; "I see it in your eyes.

Can you not take me as I am, without thinking why I am different from other girls?
Of course I am different, because I know none of them." "I wish they were all like you," he said.
"No; that would be a great pity.

You want girls who understand your own life, and can enter into your pursuits--you want companions who can talk to you; go back to them, Arnold, as soon as you are tired of coming here." And yet his instinct was right which told him that the girl was not a coquette.