Ruby jumped down from her perch and ran to Golden.
"Papa," she said, evidently referring to some subject they had been discussing. "I will show it to you, and you will say that I am right."
With a quick, deft motion, she pulled the cap from Golden's head, and loosened the braid so that the curling, rippling mass of gold fell in a shower of beauty over the girl's shoulders. Then she cried out in gleeful triumph:
"Isn't it lovely, papa? Did you ever see such a pretty nurse."
Mr. Desmond looked in amazement at the blushing, shrinking girl, and murmured inaudibly:
"Ye gods, what a perfect beauty!"
At that moment the brilliant brunette, Mrs. Desmond, swept into the room with a waft of exquisite perfume, her diamonds glittering, her rich silk and laces rustling majestically, a white satin opera cloak folded gracefully around her white shoulders.
She looked at Golden so wrathfully that it froze the quick murmur of irrepressible admiration on her lips.
"Girl, what does this disordered appearance mean? Why is your hair down after my strict orders?" she demanded, angrily.
"Your daughter pulled it down, madam," Golden answered, with outward dignity and quietness, though she was inwardly chafed and deeply wounded.