There are things about her so singular; she isn't like me, now, a particle;" and Marie sighed, as if this was a truly melancholy consideration.
Miss Ophelia in her own heart said, "I hope she isn't," but had prudence enough to keep it down.
"Eva always was disposed to be with servants; and I think that well enough with some children.

Now, I always played with father's little negroes--it never did me any harm.

But Eva somehow always seems to put herself on an equality with every creature that comes near her.

It's a strange thing about the child.

I never have been able to break her of it.