She had gained a reputation for beauty, and (which is often another thing) was beautiful.
Charles DickensIt was a dagger in the haughty father's heart, an arrow in his brain, to see how the flesh and blood he could not disown clung to this obscure stranger, and he sitting by. Not that he cared to whom his daughter turned, or from whom turned away. The swift sharp agony struck through him, as he thought of what his son might do.
Charles DickensA brisk, bright, blue-eyed fellow, a very neat figure and rather under the middle size, never out of the way and never in it.
Charles Dickens