She translated her history lessons into little dramas interspersed with speeches to the people, dialogues, music, and particularly chariot-races.

In spite of her serious countenance, she could be very funny at times, and made cruel fun of those she did not like.
She manifested for her father a passionate predilection, singularly mitigated by the sentiments of tender pity which her mother's unhappiness inspired in her youthful heart.

She saw her weep often; she would then throw herself upon the floor, curled up at her feet, and there remain for hours, motionless and dumb, looking at her with moist eyes, and drinking from time to time a tear from her cheek.
She had apparently caught, as many children do, some echoes of the domestic woes.

Doubtless her quick intellect appreciated her father's wrong-doings; but her father--that handsome gentleman, so witty, generous, and wild--she worshiped him; she was proud to be his daughter; she palpitated with joy when he clasped her to his heart.

She could neither judge him nor blame him; he was a superior being.