Now remember!" she finished, as she
ran from the room.
Aloud Miss Polly said nothing. To herself she said that of course
she should at once undo the absurd work of her niece's fingers,
and put her hair up properly again. As for "peeking" just as if
she cared how--
At that moment--unaccountably--Miss Polly caught a glimpse of
herself in the mirror of the dressing table. And what she saw
sent such a flush of rosy color to her cheeks that--she only
flushed the more at the sight.
She saw a face--not young, it is true--but just now alight with
excitement and surprise. The cheeks were a pretty pink. The eyes
sparkled. The hair, dark, and still damp from the outdoor air,
lay in loose waves about the forehead and curved back over the
ears in wonderfully becoming lines, with softening little curls
here and there.
So amazed and so absorbed was Miss Polly with what she saw in the
glass that she quite forgot her determination to do over her
hair, until she heard Pollyanna enter the room again. Before she
could move, then, she felt a folded something slipped across her
eyes and tied in the back.
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