Was it at the novelty simply, or the almost incredible fulfilment about to be given to her girlish dreams of being "somebody"--walking through her own furlong of corridor and under her own ceilings of an out-of-sight loftiness, where her own painted Spring was shedding painted flowers, and her own fore-shortened Zephyrs were blowing their trumpets over her; while her own servants, lackeys in clothing but men in bulk and shape, were as nought in her presence, and revered the propriety of her insolence to them:--being in short the heroine of an admired play without the pains of art? 
Was it at the novelty, or the almost incredible fulfilment about to be given to her girlish dreams of being "somebody" - walking through her own furlong of corridor, while her servants were as nought in her presence - being in short the heroine of an admired play without the pains of art? 