s spread out carefully upon
the widest chair. Her black hair was parted as if by a razor blade and
plastered tightly in slablike masses while the tension of the braids was
such that they stuck out on either side of the small head like decorated
sign posts. Weariness, disgust and defiance were painted visibly upon
the elfish face.

"This is the best chair!" said Ann politely, "but if you'll excuse me I
shan't get up. Every time I sit down it makes a crease in a fresh place.
By the time church is over I look like I was crumpled all over. It's the
starch!" she added in sullen explanation.

Willits, who liked children but did not understand them, essayed a mild
joke.

"Did you put some starch in your hair too?"

Ann flushed scarlet with anger and mortification and made no answer.

"It looked much nicer at breakfast," blundered on the professor
genially. "If I were you I should unstarch it--" he paused abashed by
the glare in Ann's black eyes and turned helplessly to Callandar, who
had just come in, resplendent in faultless church attire.

"Don't listen to him, Ann!" said the doctor. "Button moulders are so
ignorant. They know absolutely nothing about hair or the necessity for
special tidiness on Sundays. All the same, I'm afraid we shall have a
headache if we don't let a reef out somewhere. Sit still a moment, Ann.
I was always intended for a barber."

To the fresh astonishment of Willits his friend's skilful hands busied
themselves with the tightly drawn hair which, only too eager for
freedom, soon fell into some of its usual curves. With a quick, shy
gesture the child drew the adored hand to her lips and kissed it.
Callandar turned a deep red. The professor chuckled, and Ann, furious at
betraying herself before him, fled precipitately, the crackling starch
of her stiff skirts rattling as she ran.

For a moment Willits enjoyed his friend's embarrassment and then, as the
probable meaning of the frock coat began to dawn upon him, his
expression changed to one of apprehension.

"You weren't in earnest about that church nonsense, were you?"

"Certainly. If you need a clean collar take one of mine, and hurry up.
The first bell has stopped ringing."

"But I'm not going!"

"Not if I ask you nicely?"

"But why? What are you going for?"

"Come and see."

The shrewd eyes of the professor grew coldly thoughtful.

"That is exactly what I shall do," he decided.

From the home of Mrs. Sykes upon Duke Street to the