Phineas had never as yet exchanged a word with Lady Laura.  With her father he was acquainted, as he had dined perhaps half a dozen times at the house.  The point in Lord Brentford’s character which had more than any other struck our hero, was the unlimited confidence which he seemed to place in his daughter.  Lady Laura seemed to have perfect power of doing what she pleased.  She was much more mistress of herself than if she had been the wife instead of the daughter of the Earl of Brentford,—­and she seemed to be quite as much mistress of the house.

Phineas had declared at Killaloe that Lady Laura was six feet high, that she had red hair, that her figure was straggling, and that her hands and feet were large.  She was in fact about five feet seven in height, and she carried her height well.  There was something of nobility in her gait, and she seemed thus to be taller than her inches.  Her hair was in truth red,—­of a deep thorough redness.  Her brother’s hair was the same; and so had been that of her father, before it had become sandy with age.  Her sister’s had been of a soft auburn hue, and hers had been said to be the prettiest head of hair in Europe at the time of her marriage.  But in these days we have got to like red hair, and Lady Laura’s was not supposed to stand in the way of her being considered a beauty.  Her face was very fair, though it lacked that softness which we all love in women.  Her eyes, which were large and bright, and very clear, never seemed to quail, never rose and sunk or showed themselves to be afraid of their own power.  Indeed, Lady Laura Standish had nothing of fear about her.  Her nose was perfectly cut, but was rather large, having the slightest possible tendency to be aquiline.  Her mouth also was large, but was full of expression, and her teeth were perfect.  Her complexion was very bright, but in spite of its brightness she never blushed.  The shades of her complexion were set and steady.  Those who knew her said that her heart was so fully under command that nothing could stir her blood to any sudden motion.  As to that accusation of straggling which had been made against her, it had sprung from ill-natured observation of her modes of sitting.  She never straggled when she stood or walked; but she would lean forward when sitting, as a man does, and would use her arms in talking, and would put her hand over her face, and pass her fingers through her hair,—­after the fashion of men rather than of women;—­and she seemed to despise that soft quiescence of her sex in which are generally found so many charms.  Her hands and feet were large,—­as was her whole frame.  Such was Lady Laura Standish; and Phineas Finn had been untrue to himself and to his own appreciation of the lady when he had described her in disparaging terms to Mary Flood Jones.  But, though he had spoken of Lady Laura in disparaging terms, he had so spoken of her as to make Miss Flood Jones quite understand that he thought a great deal about Lady Laura.