She asked about prints because she saw the name and she didn't know what it meant.

She would have asked about Browning, or Swinburne, or Meredith in exactly the same way if this had been a book-shop.

She wanted to know the difference between a mezzotint and a stipple print.

She wanted to know all about the portraits too, and the names of the painters and who Lady Hamilton was and the Duchess of Bedford and the Ladies Waldegrave and 'Serena,' and if Morland's Cottagers were really as happy as they were painted?
She asked as many questions as Socrates, and I fear got as inadequately answered." "Well, she didn't strike me as in the least like that; but you can be a great help to her if she is really in earnest." "She didn't strike you like that, my dear, simply because you are a man, and some girls are never really themselves with men; they are for ever acting a part; a vulgar part, I admit, but one they have learned before they were born, the instinctive quarry eluding the instinctive hunter.
The girl is naturally shy; I could tell that, and she covers it with a kind of boldness that isn't--well, particularly attractive to one of your fastidious mind.

Yet there is something rather taking about her.
She reminds me of a small, bright tropical bird." "Of a Virginia redbird, you mean." "A redbird?
Then you have seen her ?" "Yes, I've seen her--only twice--but the last time she indulged her sense of humour in a practical joke about a sprained ankle." "I suppose she would joke like that.