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 lustre of the shining hair! "That's pretty," commented Mrs.Comstock's soul, but her stiff lips had said all that could be forced from them for once.

Just then Wesley Sinton came to the door.
"Good morning," he cried heartily.