Some of 'em coming to see me.

Hope you'll like 'em." She stretched out luxuriously in the long chair, throwing her arms above her head, and crossing her feet, which were dressed with "gun metal" stockings and shoes.

Her hat was pushed awry, and wisps of hair fell at either side of her face.
"Now, perhaps you'd like to go to your room," suggested Patty, at her wits' end what to do with such an unconventional person.
"Nixy; I'm too comfortable here! I'll chuck my hat, and just enjoy myself." Off came the hat, and was pitched on the floor.

Azalea ran her fingers through her hair, making it a little more disordered than before.

It was pretty hair,--or, rather would have been, if it were better cared for.
Dark, almost black, with a slight inclination to curl, it was bunched into a tousled knot that was far from picturesque.
"Oh, come," said Patty, jumping up, for she couldn't stand the girl's uncouth actions another minute.