"How I do wish I could go about openly, like other people! I am so tired of all this concealment!" She neither jumped, nor danced, nor sung, on her way homeward.

She seemed to be revolving something in her mind very busily.
After tea, as she and Rosa were sitting alone in the twilight, her sister, observing that she was unusually silent, said, "What are you thinking of, Mignonne ?" "I am thinking of the time we passed in Nassau," replied she, "and of that Yankee lady who seemed to take such a fancy to me when she came to Madame Conquilla's to look at the shell-work.
"I remember your talking about her," rejoined Rosa.

"You thought her beautiful." "Yes," said Floracita, "and it was a peculiar sort of beauty.

She wasn't the least like you or Mamita.

Everything about her was violet.
Her large gray eyes sometimes had a violet light in them.