"Oh, thank you!" said the girl, and sitting down she held out the ribbon.
Her mother stood back and looked at her critically.
"You haven't got that like Mag Sinton had it last night," she announced. "You little idiot! You've tried to plaster it down to suit me, and you missed it. I liked it away better as Mag fixed it, after I saw it. You didn't look so peeled."
"Oh, mother, mother!" laughed Elnora, with a half sob in her voice.
"Hold still, will you?" cried Mrs. Comstock. "You'll be late, and I haven't packed your dinner yet."
She untied the string and shook out the hair. It rose with electricity and clung to her fingers and hands. Mrs. Comstock jumped back as if bitten. She knew that touch. Her face grew white, and her eyes angry.
"Tie it yourself," she said shortly, "and then I'll put on the ribbon. But roll it back loose like Mag did. It looked so pretty that way."
Almost fainting, Elnora stood before the glass, divided off the front parts of her hair, and rolled them as Mrs. Sinton had done; tied it at the nape of her neck, then sat while her mother arranged the ribbon.
"If I pull it down till it comes tight in these creases where she had it, it will be just right won't it?" queried Mrs. Comstock, and the amazed Elnora stammered "Yes."
When she looked in the glass the bow was perfectly tied, and how the gold tone of the brown did match the
