From this time Elizabeth Lavenza
became my playfellow, and, as we grew older, my friend. She was
docile and good tempered, yet gay and playful as a summer
insect. Although she was lively and animated, her feelings were
strong and deep, and her disposition uncommonly affectionate.
No one could better enjoy liberty, yet no one could submit with
more grace than she did to constraint and caprice. Her
imagination was luxuriant, yet her capability of application was
great. Her person was the image of her mind; her hazel eyes,
although as lively as a bird's, possessed an attractive
softness. Her figure was light and airy; and, though capable of
enduring great fatigue, she appeared the most fragile creature
in the world. While I admired her understanding and fancy, I
loved to tend on her, as I should on a favourite animal; and I
never saw so much grace both of person and mind united to so
little pretension.
Every one adored Elizabeth. If the servants had any request to
make, it was always through her intercession. We were strangers
to any species of disunion and dispute; for although there was a
great dissimilitude in our characters, there was an harmony in
that very dissimilitude. I was more calm and philosophical than
my companion; yet my temper was not so yielding. My application
was of longer endurance; but it was not so severe whilst it
endured. I delighted in investigating the facts relative to the
actual world; she busied herself in following the aërial
creations of the poets. The world was to me a secret, which I
desired to discover; to her it was a vacancy, which she sought
to people with imaginations of her own.