She was as tall as Mrs.Mitchell, and that was enough to prejudice me against her at once.

She wore a close-fitting widow's cap, with a black ribbon round it.

Her hair was grey, and her face was as grey as her hair, and her skin was gathered in wrinkles about her mouth, where they twitched and twitched, as if she were constantly meditating something unpleasant.
She looked up inquiringly.
"I've brought you a new scholar," said Mrs.Mitchell.
"Well.

Very well," said the dame, in a dubious tone.

"I hope he's a good boy, for he must be good if he comes here." "Well, he's just middling.