"Well,—I mean——There, don't let's talk about it any more! How under the sun am I going to get these ends tied?"
"Come here. There! Now for the other one."
"No, I sha'n't let you do that; you hurt me dreadfully, and you got angry and took the big needle."
"I thought you expected to be hurt."
"I didn't expect to be stabbed."
"Well, just as you please. I suppose you'll go round with one ear-ring."
"Like a little pig with his ear cropped? No, I shall do it myself. See there, Georgie!" and she threw a bit of a box into my hands.
I opened it, and there lay inside, on their velvet cushion, a pair of the prettiest things you ever saw,—a tiny bunch of white grapes, and every grape a round pearl, and all hung so that they would tinkle together on their golden stems every time Faith shook her head,—and she had a cunning little way of shaking it often enough.
"These must have cost a penny, Faith," said I. "Where'd you get them?"
"Mr. Gabriel gave them to me, just now. He went up-town and bought them.
And I don't want him to know that my ears weren't bored."