A bit of conversation gives the clue to character so easily that Mrs.
Oliver and her daughter need little more description. You can see the
pretty, fragile mother resting among her pillows, and I need only tell
you that her dress is always black, her smile patient, her eyes full of
peace, and her hands never idle save in this one daily resting-hour
prescribed by the determined Miss Polly, who mounts guard during the
appointed time like a jailer who expects his prisoner to escape if he
removes his eagle eye for an instant.

The aforesaid impetuous Miss Polly has also told you something of
herself in this brief interview. She is evidently a person who feels
matters rather strongly, and who is wont to state them in the strongest
terms she knows. Every word she utters shows you that, young as she
looks, she is the real head of the family, and that her vigorous
independence of thought and speech must be the result of more care and
responsibility than ordinarily fall to the lot of a girl of sixteen.

Certain of her remarks must be taken with a grain of salt. Her
assertion of willingness to blow up innocent boarders in their beds
would seem, for instance, to indicate a vixenish and vindictive sort of
temper quite unwarranted by the circumstances; but a glance at the girl
herself contradicts the thought.

_Item_: A firm chin. She will take her own way if she can possibly get
it; but _item_; a sweet, lovable mouth framed in dimples; a mouth that
breaks into smiles at the slightest provocation, no matter how dreary
the outlook; a mouth that quivers at the first tender word, and so the
best of all correctives to the determined little chin below.