She walked up the room toward the mirror, observing the moving folds of the skirt as she walked.

She went aside, out of the range of the glass, and came into it again to observe the effect of meeting herself as though by chance, or rather, of meeting a young woman habited in such a black silk gown, for it was not in herself precisely that Eliza was at the moment interested.

She did not smile at herself, or meet her own eyes in the glass.

She was gravely intent upon looking as well as she could, not upon estimating how well she looked.
The examination was satisfactory.

Perhaps a woman more habituated to silk gowns and mantua-makers would have found small wrinkles in sleeve or shoulder; but Eliza was pleased.