It looks as if she might." Densie did not know.

It had struck her as singular taste, unless it were done to conceal a scar, or something of that kind.
"I did not like that girl," she said, "and still she interested me more than any person I ever met.

I never went near her without experiencing a strange sensation, neither could I keep from watching her continually, although I knew as well as you that it annoyed her, Alice," and Densie lowered her voice almost to a whisper, "I cannot account for it, but I had queer fancies about that girl.

Try now and bring her distinctly to your mind.

Did you ever see any one whom she resembled; any other eyes like hers ?" and Densie's own fierce, wild orbs flashed inquiringly upon Alice, who could not remember a face like 'Lina Worthington's.
"I did not like her eyes much," she said; "they were too intensely black, too much like coals of fire, when they flashed angrily on that poor Lulu, who evidently was not well posted in the duties of a waiting maid, auntie," and Alice's voice was lowered, too.