Now ho' did you begin?
and ho' do you expect to get anything oat of it ?" She turned on Alma eyes brimming with a shrewd mixture of fun and earnest, and Alma made note of the fact that she had an early nineteenth-century face, round, arch, a little coquettish, but extremely sensible and unspoiled-looking, such as used to be painted a good deal in miniature at that period; a tendency of her brown hair to twine and twist at the temples helped the effect; a high comb would have completed it, Alma felt, if she had her bonnet off.

It was almost a Yankee country-girl type; but perhaps it appeared so to Alma because it was, like that, pure Anglo-Saxon.

Alma herself, with her dull, dark skin, slender in figure, slow in speech, with aristocratic forms in her long hands, and the oval of her fine face pointed to a long chin, felt herself much more Southern in style than this blooming, bubbling, bustling Virginian.
"I don't know," she answered, slowly.
"Going to take po'traits," suggested Miss Woodburn, "or just paint the ahdeal ?" A demure burlesque lurked in her tone.
"I suppose I don't expect to paint at all," said Alma.

"I'm going to illustrate books--if anybody will let me." "Ah should think they'd just joamp at you," said Miss Woodburn.

"Ah'll tell you what let's do, Miss Leighton: you make some pictures, and Ah'll wrahte a book fo' them.