“No,” said Winona, “I won’t. It’s wicked to spoil pretty hair like that.” And she walked out of the tent.
“I’ll det ’em,” said Sandy, slipping down and bringing them to Louise from the table at the end of the tent.
“Here’s a piece of ribbon to tie it with, if you won’t cut it off,” said Winona, reappearing with a wide length of blue taffeta.
“No, thank you,” said Louise, cutting industriously and very neatly. “It would just be in her eyes all the time. I’m going to cut it straight across her eyebrows, like a little boy’s.”
“I did it to all my dolls once,” said Winona. She sat down, though, and watched Louise till she was done.
Louise had washed the little girl’s hair when she gave her the second bath, and when it was even and short enough to suit her she finished dressing the child in her white frock, and set her on the grass outside, to dry in the sunshine. She gave her a picture book to look at to keep her amused. The bobbed locks, thick and curly, fluffed out charmingly in a yellow bush around the sweet little face.
“It’s becoming,” admitted Winona. “She looks like a cherub, or a choir-boy on a Christmas card. There is the signal for breakfast. You just got her dry in time.”
“Breakfast?” said Sandy, brightening.
“Poor little darling!” said Louise, catching and kissing her. “I don’t believe she ever had anything to eat before she came here!”
They went to breakfast in state, and Sandy’s golden aureole and clean white frock made quite a sensation at the table. They piled things up for her to sit on, and she was put where Mrs. Bryan could reach her, and argue with her easily if she misbehaved. But she acted very well indeed. Her table-manners were good, considering, she talked without the least shyness, and managed to eat a very large breakfast. Louise beamed with pride over the impression her protegee was making.