"Very."
"What sort of a girl is she?"
"Phillis Fleming is what you would call, I think, a beautiful girl. She is tall, and has a good figure. Her eyes are brown, and her hair is brown, with lots of it. Her features are small, and not too regular. She has got a very sweet smile, and I should say a good temper, so long as she has her own way."
"No, doubt," said Agatha. "Pray, go on; you seem to have studied her appearance with a really fatherly care."
"She has a very agreeable voice; a naivete in manner that you should like; she is clever and well informed."
"Is she strong-minded, Lawrence?"
"NO," said Lawrence, with emphasis, "she is not. She has excellent ideas on the subject of her sex."
"Always in extremes, of course, though I am not certain what."
"She wants, so far as I can see, nothing but the society of some amiable accomplished gentlewoman——"
"Lawrence, you are exactly the same as you always were. You begin by flattery. Now I know what you came here for."