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           "Oh,thankyou. Ilovetofixpeople’shair,"exultedPollyanna,carefullylayingdownthehand-glassandreachingforacomb. "Isha’n’tdomuchto-day,ofcourse—I’minsuchahurryforyoutoseehowprettyyouare; butsomedayI’mgoingtotakeitalldownandhaveaperfectlylovelytimewithit,"shecried,touchingwithsoftfingersthewavinghairabovethesickwoman’sforehead. 

           ForfiveminutesPollyannaworkedswiftly,deftly,combingarefractorycurlintofluffiness,perkingupadroopingruffleattheneck,orshakingapillowintoplumpnesssothattheheadmighthaveabetterpose. Meanwhilethesickwoman,frowningprodigiously,andopenlyscoffingatthewholeprocedure,was,inspiteofherself,beginningtotinglewithafeelingperilouslyneartoexcitement. 

           "There!"pantedPollyanna,hastilypluckingapinkfromavasenearbyandtuckingitintothedarkhairwhereitwouldgivethebesteffect. "NowIreckonwe’rereadytobelookedat!" Andsheheldoutthemirrorintriumph. 

           "Humph!"gruntedthesickwoman,eyeingherreflectionseverely. "Ilikeredpinksbetterthanpinkones; butthen,it’llfade,anyhow,beforenight,sowhat’sthedifference!" 

           "ButIshouldthinkyou’dbegladtheydidfade,"laughedPollyanna,"‘causethenyoucanhavethefunofgettingsomemore. Ijustloveyourhairfluffedoutlikethat,"shefinishedwithasatisfiedgaze. "Don’tyou?" 

           "Hm-m;maybe. Still—‘twon’tlast,withmetossingbackandforthonthepillowasIdo."