"Tell me more, please. Describe everything about her. Was she tall, or short? What colored hair and eyes? What sort of voice?"
"A flutey voice, like some birds I've listened to," returned the girl ruminantly, "but with something a bit odd and different in her speech that made us think her an American, and Hope even spoke of it; but just then the carriage came to take us to the wharf, and she forgot to answer."
"Yes, yes," cried the other eagerly, "and she was tall and slender?"
"Very, and a fine figure, we thought. She had light brown hair, and her eyes—"
"Yes, her eyes—" Lady Moreham was bending forward with bated breath, and Faith watched her wonderingly as she continued, "When she looked at you, listening to what you had to say, was there any peculiarity?"
"Only that they were not of the same size nor color," laughed the girl, "and she had a way of dropping her head a little, and looking up sidewise like a bird."
"True, true!" breathed the lady, "and as you say one eye was brown and one blue."
Faith nodded acquiescence, but smiled to herself, knowing she had said nothing of the kind.
"But you cannot remember her name?"
"No, neither of us. We only saw her for a few minutes, once or twice, you see."