"Aunt Achsa? Oh, no! At least--" It had not occurred to Sidney that Aunt Achsa had anything to say about it. "She lets me do anything." Which was quite true. But something of Sidney's exultance faded; she was beginning to wish that she had just said _some_thing to Aunt Achsa about it before she let Mart clip her braids--not exactly asked permission but confided her intentions. That Mart might not perceive her moment's perturbation she turned her attention to the clams. "I ought not to have half for I didn't find nearly as many as you did." "Oh, rats. Take 'em. All you want." To Mart, who could dig clams faster than old Jake Newberry, an accurate division of their spoils meant nothing. To Sidney who dug awkwardly each clam was a treasure. Her step lagged as she approached Aunt Achsa's. She hoped Aunt Achsa would not be home. Then she wondered why she could not be as confidently defiant as Martie; she supposed it was the restraint of the League and the three sisters under whom she had had to live and Martie had not. But it was absurd to feel even apprehensive of Aunt Achsa's displeasure when Aunt Achsa was such a little thing and so indefinite a relative. Aunt Achsa was in the kitchen trimming the edge of a pie. She was holding it high on the tips of her fingers and skilfully cutting the crust with a small knife when under it she spied Sidney's shorn head. She promptly dropped the pie upon the table upside down. A trickle of red cherry juice ran out over the spotless table. "Why, I _swum_! Sidney Romley! Wh--what have you gone and done? What's ever happened to you?" "My hair was so hot and _such_ a bother. I can swim now and won't have to sit around for an hour drying it. I _hated_ my braids--" All good arguments which rang true but did not seem to convince Aunt Achsa who continued to stare at Sidney with troubled eyes. "It's _my_ hair, Aunt Achsa. If I look a sight it's my own fault." "That ain't it, child. Only--it's so sudden. Your--_doing_ it--without a word or--or anything. What'll your folks say? I--I--kind a wish you'd just _told_ me, you see." Sidney laughed with a lightness she did not feel. Aunt Achsa eyes were so reproachful, even hurt. "Why, I did not have time to tell you. I didn't think of it myself until a few moments ago. And Mart offered to do it for me. It's such a little thing to make any fuss about." The cherry juice went on dripping until a big round stain disfigured the tablecloth and still Aunt Achsa stared at Sidney with troubled eyes.