How do you think I should look driving in a carriage, like Mrs.Brown?
Should I look as grand as she does ?" "Much grander, I daresay, and much handsomer." "They all give dinner parties at Montreal." Eliza said this reflectively, speaking the name of that city just as an English country girl would speak of "London." "Don't you think I could go to dinner parties as grand as any one?
And, look here, they showed me all sorts of photographs the Montreal ladies get taken of themselves, and one was taken with her hair down and her side face turned.

And Mrs.Glass has been up here this afternoon, saying that her gentlemen friends say I must be taken in the same way.

She was fixing me for it.

Look, I'll show you how it is." Her great masses of hair, left loose apparently from this last visit, were thrown down her back in a moment, and Eliza, looking-glass in hand, sat herself sideways on a chair, and disposed her hair so that it hung with shining copper glow like a curtain behind her pale profile.

"What do I look like, Miss Sophia ?" "Like what you are, Eliza--a handsome girl." "Then why shouldn't I marry a rich man?
It would be easier than drudging here, and yet I thought it was grand to be here last year.