Her manner was neither independent nor assertive, but rather one of well-bred composure and calm reliance.

Beth felt that she was intruding and knew that she ought to go; yet some fascination held her to the spot.

Her eyes wandered to the maid's hands.

However her features and form might repress any evidence of nervousness, these hands told a different story.

The thin fingers clasped and unclasped in little spasmodic jerks and belied the quiet smile upon the face above them.
"I wish," said Beth, slowly, "I knew you." A sudden wave of scarlet swept over Eliza's face.