The girl regarded her with grave surprise. "Are you making fun of me?" she asked seriously. "'Making fun of you,'" repeated Grace. "I should say not. I think you have beautiful hair. Why, what is it, Miss Reynolds?" For, with a queer, choking cry, the odd little stranger threw herself face downward on the bed and sobbed disconsolately. Grace stood silent, watching the sob-wracked figure with puzzled, sympathetic eyes. Emma appeared in the doorway, her eyebrows elevated in astonishment. Grace motioned for her to come in. The girl on the bed wept on, while the two young women waited patiently for her sobs to cease. Suddenly she sat up with a jerk, and dashed her hand across her eyes. "I'm sorry--I--was so--so--silly," she faltered, "but I couldn't help it. No one ever told me that I was anything but plain and ugly before." "You poor little thing," sympathized Emma. Grace sat down on the bed beside Mary and put her arm across the thin shoulders. "Cheer up," she said brightly. "I am sure you are going to be happy at Overton. You feel blue just now because you are tired and hungry. Let me fix your hair and we'll hurry to Vinton's as fast as ever we can. I'm simply starved." Mary Reynolds obediently sat on the chair Grace placed for her and the hair dressing began. Grace and Emma both exclaimed in admiration as Grace unbraided the soft-golden brown hair, which, once free, broke into waves and curls. "Did you ever see a prettier head of hair?" exclaimed Emma. "I think it would look best combed low over her forehead, don't you?" asked Grace. Emma nodded her approval as Grace, with deft fingers, arranged the thick curly locks in a strictly smart fashion which completely changed Mary Reynolds' forlorn appearance. "Now look in the glass," directed Grace, when she had finished. Mary gazed earnestly at her new self. "It can't be me," she said with a pardonable disregard of English. "But it is," Grace assured her. "You must learn to do your hair like that and wear it so. Now let me put a tiny bit of powder on your face to scare away the tear stains and we'll be off." The obnoxious helmet-like hat did not seem so unbecoming, now that Mary's curls peeped from under it, and Grace felt a certain degree of satisfaction in her efforts to make the new girl at least presentable. She decided that once her large brown eyes had lost their scared, anxious expression and her thin face had grown plump, Mary would be really pretty.