“He really should,” Helen said, and her tone was perfect.  Just a little bit smug, chiding, but not so much of either that Mrs. Thetford would think less of her.

...

“Thank you, Ma’am,” Helen said, smiling, pretending to be a little shy.  Not a lot, but enough to be humble.  “It means a lot that you think so well of me.”

...

By the time we’d flowed back into the crowd, almost invisible, Helen’s expression had gone flat again, her eyes cold.  The smile was gone.

Wildbow, Twig, 1.2