“A gray riding-hat with a feather. No; it was a bonnet.”
“A hat? A bonnet?”
“Well, no. She was bare-headed, with thick brown hair.”
“Bare-headed? in the street!” interrupted Mrs. Bentley. “Why, May!”
“Well, mother, she had on a hat with a feather when I first saw her, half a block away. When I looked again, a little nearer, I thought it was a bonnet. But when I came quite near, she was bare-headed. She had large brown eyes, anyway.”
“Brown eyes?”
“Well, hazel.”
“But you said she kept her face turned away from you, as if not wanting to be known.”
“So she did. She didn’t look at me; still, I knew she had big brown—hazel—eyes.”
Mrs. Bentley laughed.