"
"I shall wear these bows I have on or none at all!" said Patricia.
"Don't be obstinate," said Miss Fenler. "Mrs. Marvin told me to speak to
you."
"Did _she_ say I couldn't wear these big bows?" Patricia asked, her eyes
black with anger.
"She certainly did," declared Miss Fenler.
"Well, you can tell her I wear these or none at all," Patricia said,
stoutly.
"None at all!" repeated Miss Fenler.
"Don't attempt to come into the class-room with your long hair untidy.
Without a ribbon it would look slovenly."
Patricia's smile was broad, and her eyes actually impish as she left the
hall.
"She's equal to pinning on a half-dozen extra bows if she chooses," Miss
Fenler said, under her breath.
Glenmore, once a private estate, looked like an old castle, and the
dwellings that were its nearest neighbors were owned by old and wealthy
residents. No stores had ever broken the charm of the locality, and the
sleepy old town had supposed that they never would, yet around the
corner of a little back street, an enterprising Italian had purchased a
wee cottage. After three days a sign appeared in his front window. It
stunned the residents. It read:
ANTONIO CARANA,
BARBER AND HAIRDRESSER.
Already small boys and girls might be seen, in charge of maids,
trotting up his steps with long curls, and after a few minutes,
appearing with a "Dutch cut."
Patricia, buttoning her coat as she ran, appeared at his door
breathless, but eager.
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