From bonnet-strings to shoe-laces there was never a wrinkle or a spot.

But the Little Colonel felt no awe.

She had discovered that under that prim exterior was a heart thoroughly in sympathy with all her childish joys and griefs, and in consequence the two had become warm friends.

Lloyd stood beside the rocking-chair, where she had seated Mrs.Brewster, and waved a big fan so vigorously that the bonnet-strings fluttered, and a lock of gray hair was blown out of place and straggled across the placid brow.
"We were tellin' each othah about some of the worst things we evah did in ou' lives, Mrs.Brewster," said Lloyd.

"Won't you tell us about some of the things you did when you were a naughty little girl ?" Mrs.Brewster laughed.