Cowperwood took her mental measurement exactly.

A girl with a high sense of life in her, romantic, full of the thought of love and its possibilities.

As he looked at her he had the sense of seeing the best that nature can do when she attempts to produce physical perfection.

The thought came to him that some lucky young dog would marry her pretty soon and carry her away; but whoever secured her would have to hold her by affection and subtle flattery and attention if he held her at all.
"The little snip"-- she was not at all--"she thinks the sun rises and sets in her father's pocket," Lillian observed one day to her husband.
"To hear her talk, you'd think they were descended from Irish kings.

Her pretended interest in art and music amuses me." "Oh, don't be too hard on her," coaxed Cowperwood diplomatically.