At this time, Miss Lane’s proportions were of the most perfect womanliness. Tall enough to be commanding, yet not high enough to attract observation—light enough to be graceful, but so full as to indicate the perfect health with which she was blest. Indeed, this appearance of health was the first impression produced by Miss Lane upon the beholder. It made one feel stronger only to watch her firm, quick step and round, elastic form. Her clear, ringing voice spoke of life. The truthful, steady light of her eyes inspired one with confidence in humanity, and the color that came and went in her cheek, set one’s own blood to a more youthful, joyous bound. Miss Lane was a blonde, her head and features were cast in noble mould, and her form, when at rest, was replete with dignified majesty, and, in motion, was instinct alike with power and grace. Hers was a bright, good face upon which none looked with indifference. Those deep violet eyes, with the strange dark line around them, could glance cold, stern rebuke upon the evil-doer, and they could kindle, too, and pour young scorn upon what was small and mean. Yet of all her features, her mouth was the most peculiarly beautiful. Although in repose it was indicative of firmness, it was capable of expressing infinite humor and perfect sweetness. Her golden hair was arranged with simplicity, and in her dress she always avoided superfluous ornament. In toilet, speech, and manner she was a lady. Miss Lane was fond of games, and invariably excelled at all she ever attempted. Her uncle secretly prided himself upon her prowess, and, in her absence, frequently spoke of this success of hers: but he liked to laugh at her for being able to “distance everybody else in athletic sports.” He used to tell about her daring some young man to run a race with her, and then leaving him far behind and out of breath. Yet it was known he had, upon this occasion, rebuked her for want of that dignity which, in his heart, he gladly owned she did not lack. At Wheatland, Miss Lane saw much company from a distance, her uncle constantly entertaining his foreign and political friends. Their conversation and her historic reading, directed by Mr. Buchanan, made her a most congenial companion for him. She was a good reader, her voice sweet and pure, and her enunciation clear and distinct. She was in the habit of reading aloud the newspapers, and afterward discussing with him the news and the political and literary subjects of the day. She took great interest in the grounds, and it was her taste that suggested many of the improvements made at Wheatland.