One day it was gone. On a high chair behind a raised counter the stipendiary’s substitute regarded her malevolently over his glasses. “I’ve been playing since I was five, Lucy! You’re just more talented than I am. Don’t you think that the shade of my hair is lovely?” “There is nothing particular the matter with the shade,” Anna answered, “but it is not nearly so becoming as before you touched it. Mr. " "What is this to me, Sir?" said Trenchard, cutting him short. Her head had been shaved, and around it was swathed a piece of rag, in which a few straws were stuck. ’ ‘You would speak of the house?’ ‘Many’s the time little Miss Mary would say her papa meant for her to have it, she having no brothers and sisters at all—when we played together I mean, she and me and Joan Pottiswick.
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