The occupation seemed to be absorbing.
Louie sat for a while, sucking at a lump of sugar she had swept that morning into the _omnium gatherum_ of her pocket.

At last she took up a little stone and threw it across at David.
'What's yor silly old secret about, then ?' 'Where's my book, then ?' replied David, holding up the boat and looking with one eye shut along the keel.
'Iv I gie it yer, an yor secret ain't wo'th it, I'll put soom o' that watter down yor neckhole,' said Louie, nodding towards the place.
'If yo don't happen to find yorsel in th' pan fust,' remarked David unmoved.
Louie sucked at her sugar a little longer, with her hands round her knees.

She had thrown off her hat, and the May sun struck full on her hair, on the glossy brilliance of it, and the natural curls round the temples which disguised a high and narrow brow.

She no longer wore her hair loose.

In passionate emulation of Annie Wigson, she had it plaited behind, and had begged an end of blue ribbon of Mrs.Wigson to tie it with, so that the beautiful arch of the head showed more plainly than before, while the black eyes and brows seemed to have gained in splendour and effectiveness, from their simpler and severer setting.