Lady Agatha glanced at her, noticed her expression, and smiled a rich, sweet, gratified smile.
She had made a disciple.

To make a disciple was very pleasant to one of her temperament.

Like most women, she was a thorough propagandist.
As she swept up to the gate of Lady Anne's house, the old lady herself was standing just within it.

She had come in from driving her little pony phaeton, which she liked to drive herself.

She had a little wild, bright-eyed mountain pony, which would eat sugar and apples from her hands, and was as much of a pet as a dog.
"Well, Mary," she said, "introduce me.