"Oh!" said Miss Rhys, looking up. "Why, how your hair does look, Alexia!"
Up flew Alexia's other hand to her head.
"Well, it's been all hooked up," she said.
"And I'll brush it for you," said Polly, at her shoulder.
"That'll be fine," cried Alexia, with a comfortable wriggle of her long figure. "Oh, I'm sorry, Aunt."
"Very well," said Miss Rhys, turning back to her embroidery again. "And, Alexia, your room looks very badly. I'm astonished that you are so untidy, when I talk to you about it so much."
"Well, Polly is helping me fix it up," said Alexia, drawing off and pulling
Polly along.
"Now, you see, Polly"—as the two girls were safe once more in the little room, this time with the door shut—"I only got some more pickings by going to Aunt."
"Hush," said Polly, "she will hear you.'
"How is she going to hear with the door shut, pray tell?" cried Alexia, with a giggle. "Well, it's over with now. Let's fly at this horrid old room. Dear me!"—as she ran by the window—"do just see those dreadful boys."