Usually, I don't like being in front of a mirror, because--well, because I'm only the "pretty girl's sister." But to-night I didn't mind.

My cheeks were red, and my eyes bright.
Sitting down, you might almost take me for a tall girl, and the way my gown was made didn't show that one shoulder is a little higher than the other.

Di designed the dress.
I thought, if I wasn't pretty, I did look interesting, and original.

I looked as if I could _think_ of things; and as if I could feel.
And I was feeling.

I was wondering why he had been so good to me lately, unless he cared.