Even in that innocent insolence of first womanhood, with its tentatively malicious, half-conscious flauntings, she was one of reticences toward the world including herself, with petticoats of decorum draping the child's anarchy of thought--her luxuriant young emotions "done up" sedately with her hair.

She was now one to be cautious indeed of imputations so blunt as this concerning Allan.

Besides, how nobly he had spoken of Bernal.

Then she wondered _why_ it should seem noble, for Nancy would be always a creature to wonder where another would accept.

She saw it had seemed noble because Bernal must have been up to some deviltry.
This phrase would not be Nancy's--only she knew it to be the way her uncle, for example, would translate Allan's praise of his brother.