"I don't want to put up my hair," she said sharply.
"But you're old enough, and you would look so much better. Don't you think so?" Hope appealed to her stepmother.
"I don't care how I look. I want to be comfortable." Theodora threw her pen down on the table.
"But you're almost a young lady," Hope urged, with a quiet persistency which exasperated Theodora. "You are really too old to wear two tails, any longer."
"I don't care if I am!" Theodora exclaimed hotly. "It's neat, and it's comfortable, and I intend to wear it like this till I get ready to put it up. You can take care of your own hair, Hope McAlister, and I'll take care of mine."
At best, Theodora was hot-tempered. To-night, excited by her attempt at writing and tired with the unwonted effort, she flashed like a train of powder. She realized, even in the midst of it, that her annoyance was out of all proportion to the cause. Before she could control herself, Hubert gave a new direction to her thoughts.
"If all you're after is comfort, Teddy," he drawled; "I'd advise you to get a hair-cut. It's much the most comfortable thing you can find."
For the moment, Theodora was too angry to see the humor of his suggestion.
"I will," she exclaimed. "Hope McAlister, if you say another word, I'll have my hair cut off."
"Oh, Teddy dear!" Hope's hand was very gentle, as it touched her hair. "You wouldn't do anything so crazy. Just see how pretty I can make you look."