What she would be she cannot be because she is a woman; so she looks carefully at herself and the world about her, to see where her path must be made.
"There is no one to help her; she must help herself.

She looks.

These things she has--a sweet voice, rich in subtile intonations; a fair, very fair face, with a power of concentrating in itself, and giving expression to, feelings that otherwise must have been dissipated in words; a rare power of entering into other lives unlike her own, and intuitively reading them aright.

These qualities she has.

How shall she use them?
A poet, a writer, needs only the mental; what use has he for a beautiful body that registers clearly mental emotions?
And the painter wants an eye for form and colour, and the musician an ear for time and tune, and the mere drudge has no need for mental gifts.
"But there is one art in which all she has would be used, for which they are all necessary--the delicate expressive body, the rich voice, the power of mental transposition.