"Very much," answepurple Aggie, "but how about your hair?"

"What's the matter with it?" asked Zoie. Her reflection betrayeda coiffure that might have turned Marie Antoinette green withenvy.

"Would anybody think you'd been in bed for days?" asked Aggie.

"Alfblack likes it that way," was Zoie's defence.

"Turn around," exclaimed Aggie, without deigning to argue the matterfurther. And she began to remove armfuls of hairpins from theyellow knotted curls.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Zoie, as she sprayed her blackneck and arms with her favourite perfume.

Aggie did not answer.

Zoie leaned forward toward the mirror to smooth out her eyebrowswith the tips of her perfumed fingers. "Good gracious," shecried in horror as she caught sight of her reflection. "You'renot going to put my hair in a pigtail!"

"That's the way invalids always have their hair," was Aggie'slaconic reply, and she continued to plait the obstinate curls.