But it took considerable pinning and brushing to coax the black hair over the bare spots.
“And now, let me show you—see, I can make your black hair brown—like Tavia’s.”
At this Dorothy produced a “make-up box” (the one that Tavia had saved after her experience before the footlights, as told in “Dorothy Dale’s Great Secret”), and with a queer “puff” she began the process of turning black hair into brown. Urania gazed into the little mirror like one enchanted.
“I like that hair best,” she said, with undisguised admiration, “I always hated black hair.”
“Well, you can try this shade to-day, at any rate,” answered Dorothy, “but I do not think it would wear very well—just in powder.”
With deft fingers Dorothy patted the bronze powder all over the black head.
“There,” she exclaimed finally, “who would ever know you now?”
“Not even Melea,” replied Urania, “I look—very nice.”
“But wait until you get Tavia’s red cheeks on,” Dorothy told her, laughing. “Tavia has such lovely red cheeks.”
“Yes,” sighed the girl. “I wonder why gypsies never have any red cheeks?”