“To be sure I do! Madonna wouldn’t like it without.”
“Then you had better make up your mind at once to give her some other present; for not one morsel of my hair shall you have. There now! what do you think of that?”
“I don’t believe it, my old darling.”
“It’s true enough, I can tell you. Not a hair of my head shall you have.”
“Why not?”
“Never mind why. I’ve got my own reasons.”
“Very well: if you come to that, I’ve got my reasons for giving the bracelet; and I mean to give it. If you won’t let any of your hair be plaited up along with the rest, it’s Madonna you will disappoint—not me.”
Mrs. Peckover saw that she must change her tactics, or be defeated.
“Don’t you be so dreadful obstinate, Master Zack, and I’ll tell you the reason,” she said in an altered tone, leading the way lower down into the passage. “I don’t want you to give her a Hair Bracelet, because I believe it will bring ill-luck to her—there!”
Zack burst out laughing. “Do you call that a reason? Who ever heard of a Hair Bracelet being an unlucky gift?”