Adeline was very different; her fair and brilliant complexion, her
deep blue eyes and golden ringlets, made her a very lovely little
creature; her quietness was a relief after her sister's boisterous
merriment, and her dislike of dirt and brambles, continually
contrasted with poor Phyllis's recklessness of such impediments. Ada
readily learnt lessons, which cost Phyllis and her teacher hours of
toil; Ada worked deftly when Phyllis's stiff fingers never willingly
touched a needle; Ada played with a doll, drew on scraps of paper, or
put up dissected maps, while Phyllis was in mischief or in the way.
A book was the only chance of interesting her; but very few books
took her fancy enough to occupy her long;--those few, however, she
read over and over again, and when unusual tranquillity reigned in
the drawing-room, she was sure to be found curled up at the top of
the library steps, reading one of three books--Robinson Crusoe,
Little Jack, or German Popular Tales. Then Emily blamed her
ungraceful position, Jane laughed at her uniform taste, and Lily
proposed some story about modern children, such as Phyllis never
could like, and the constant speech was repeated, 'Only look at Ada!'
till Phyllis considered her sister as a perfect model, and sighed
over her own naughtiness.

German Popular Tales were a recent introduction of Claude's, for
Eleanor had carefully excluded all fairy tales from her sisters'
library; so great was her dread of works of fiction, that Emily and
Lilias had never been allowed to read any of the Waverley Novels,
excepting Guy Mannering, which their brother Henry had insisted upon
reading aloud to them the last time he was at home, and that had
taken so strong a hold on their imagination, that Eleanor was quite
alarmed.