"I know it's wrong," Jan sighed, "just because it would be so heavenly to have you." Meg loosed the hand she held and stood up. She lifted her thin arms above her head, as though invoking some invisible power, stretched herself, and ran round the table to kiss Jan. "And do you never think, you dear, slow-witted thing, that it will be rather lovely for _me_ to be with you? To be with somebody who is kind without being patronising, who treats one as a human being and not a machine, who sees the funny side of things and isn't condescending or improving if she doesn't happen to be cross?" "I'm often cross," Jan said. "Well, and what if you are? Can't I be cross back? I'm not afraid of your crossness. You never hit below the belt. Now, promise me you'll give me a trial. Promise!" Meg's arms were round her neck, Meg's absurd cropped head was rubbing against hers. Jan was very lonely and hungry for affection just then, timid and anxious about the future. Even in that moment of time it flashed upon her what a tower of strength this small, determined creature would be, and how infinitely hard it was to turn Meg from any course she had determined on. "For a little while, then," so Jan salved her conscience. "Just till we all shake down ... and your hair begins to grow." Meg stood up very straight and shook her finger at Jan. "Remember, I'm to be a real, proper nurse with authority, and a clinical thermometer ... and a uniform." "If you like, and it's a pretty uniform." Meg danced gleefully round the table. "It will be lovely, it is lovely. I've got it all ready; green linen frocks, big _well_-fitting aprons, and such beautiful caps." "Not caps, Meg!" Jan expostulated. "Please not caps." "Certainly caps. How otherwise am I to cover up my head? I can't wear hats all the time. And how could I ever inspire those children with respect with a head like this? When I get into my uniform you'll see what a very superior nurse I look." "You'll look much more like musical comedy than sober service." "You mistake the situation altogether," Meg said loftily. "I take my position very seriously." "But you can't go about Wren's End in caps. Everybody knows you down there." "They'll find out they don't know me as well as they thought, that's all." "Meg, tell me, what did Hannah say when she saw your poor shorn head?" "Hannah, as usual, referred to my Maker, and said that had He intended me to have short hair He would either have caused it not to grow or afflicted me with some disease which necessitated shearing; and she added that such havers are just flying in the face of Providence." "So they are." "All the more reason to cover them up, and I wish to impress the children." "Those children will be sadly browbeaten, I can see, and as for their poor aunt, she won't be able to call her soul her own."