From among these long, glossy curls, she now cut one of the longest and
most spiral, cut it off close to the root, and with it bound the
flowers together. Mother should see that she did know how to give up
something she cared for, and was not as selfish as she was usually
supposed to be.

"Oh .. h .. h!" said both little boys in a breath, then doubled up in
noisy mirth. Laura was constantly doing something to set their young
blood in amazement: they looked upon her as the personification of all
that was startling and unexpected. But Pin, returning with the reel of
thread, opened her eyes in a different way.

"Oh, Laura ...!" she began, tearful at once.

"Now, res'vor!" retorted Laura scornfully--"res'vor" was Sarah's name
for Pin, on account of her perpetual wateriness. "Be a cry-baby, do."
But she was not damped, she was lost in the pleasure of self-sacrifice.

Pin looked after her as she danced off, then moved submissively in her
wake to be near at hand should intercession be needed. Laura was so
unsuspecting, and Mother would be so cross. In her dim, childish way
Pin longed to see these, her two nearest, at peace; she understood them
both so well, and they had little or no understanding for each
other.--So she crept to the house at her sister's heels.

Laura did not go indoors; hiding against the wall of the flagged
verandah, she threw her bouquet in at the window, meaning it to fall on
Mother's lap.

But Mother had dropped her needle, and was just lifting her face,
flushed with stooping, when the flowers hit her a thwack on the head.
She groped again, impatiently, to find what had struck her, recognised
the peace-offering, and thought of the surprise cake that was to go
into Laura's box on the morrow. Then she saw the curl, and her face
darkened. Was there ever such a tiresome child? What in all the world
would she do next?

"Laura, come here, directly!"

Laura had moved away; she was not expecting recognition. If Mother were
pleased she would call Pin to put the flowers in water for her, and
that would be the end of it. The idea of a word of thanks would have
made Laura feel uncomfortable. Now, however, at the tone of Mother's
voice, her mouth set stubbornly. She went indoors as bidden, but was
already up in arms again.

"You're a very naughty girl indeed!" began Mother as soon she appeared.
"How dare you cut off your hair? Upon my word, if it weren't your last
night I'd send you to bed without any supp