An artist might have found fault with it here and there, but to the tutor it seemed completely beautiful.

The fine poise of her head upon the dainty neck, the classic cut of mouth and nostril, the large dark liquid eyes, the snowy forehead, the short clustering wind-tossed hair, the frank countenance, the refinement in every gesture--all combined to astonish the good man into admiration.

Yet, with all his admiration, he felt a little afraid of this radiant apparition.

Consequently, by the time he had half decided to advance to her succour, his ward had stepped forward and forestalled him.
"Let me help you, Cousin Rosalind," said Roger.
She turned on him a look half surprise, half pleasure, and then allowing him to take cloaks, bags, dog, and all, said-- "Really, papa, you must go and help down in the cabin.

It's an awful chaos, and Tom and Jill are making it ten times worse.