"I do so like to hear her.

Why are the shadows on the snow blue, Eleanor ?" "I can't think," said Eleanor, "unless it has something to do with reflection from the sky." Eleanor was not always discreet enough to keep her opinion of Mr.
Henley's style to herself and us.

She was a very clever girl, and, like other very young people, her cleverness was apt to be aggressive; scorned compromises, and was not always sufficiently respectful towards the powers that be.
Her taste for drawing was known, and Madame taunted her one day with having a reputation for talent in this line, when her water-colour copies were not so effective as Lucy's; simply, I believe, with the wish to stimulate her to excel.

I am sure Madame much preferred Eleanor to Lucy, as a matter of liking.
"Behold, Mademoiselle!" said she, holding up one of Lucy's latest copies, just glorified with a wide aureole of white cardboard "mounting"; "what do you think of this ?" "It is very like Mr.Henley's," said Eleanor warmly.

"Lucy has taken great pains, I'm sure.