She was slender to emaciation; her clothes hung loosely over her form, which seemed as sexless as a lily-stem; indeed, her body seemed only made for the head, which was flower-like and charming, but almost painful in its delicacy, and with such weight of innocent pondering upon the unknown conditions of things in which she found herself.

At times, of course, there were ebullitions of youthful spirit, and the child was as inconsequent as a kitten.

At those times she was neither child nor woman; she was an anomalous thing made up not so much of actualities as of instincts.

She romped with her mates as unseen and uncomprehended of herself as any young animal, but the flame of her striving spirit made everything full of unread meaning.
Ellen was accounted a most remarkable scholar.

She had left Miss Mitchell's school, and was in one of a higher grade.