As Stephanie grew up she had repeated in her very differing body some of her father's and mother's characteristics--an interesting variability of soul.

She was tall, dark, sallow, lithe, with a strange moodiness of heart and a recessive, fulgurous gleam in her chestnut-brown, almost brownish-black eyes.

She had a full, sensuous, Cupid's mouth, a dreamy and even languishing expression, a graceful neck, and a heavy, dark, and yet pleasingly modeled face.
From both her father and mother she had inherited a penchant for art, literature, philosophy, and music.

Already at eighteen she was dreaming of painting, singing, writing poetry, writing books, acting--anything and everything.

Serene in her own judgment of what was worth while, she was like to lay stress on any silly mood or fad, thinking it exquisite--the last word.