One of my colleagues now, knows whether she likes you or not--let
me see, how does she do it?--by the way you say good-morning at
breakfast. It is sometimes a matter of years before I can make up my
mind. But most young people seem to find it easy?"
"Oh no," said Rachel. "It's hard!"
Miss Allan looked at Rachel quietly, saying nothing; she suspected that
there were difficulties of some kind. Then she put her hand to the back
of her head, and discovered that one of the grey coils of hair had come
loose.
"I must ask you to be so kind as to excuse me," she said, rising, "if
I do my hair. I have never yet found a satisfactory type of hairpin.
I must change my dress, too, for the matter of that; and I should be
particularly glad of your assistance, because there is a tiresome set of
hooks which I _can_ fasten for myself, but it takes from ten to fifteen
minutes; whereas with your help--"
She slipped off her coat and skirt and blouse, and stood doing her hair
before the glass, a massive homely figure, her petticoat being so short
that she stood on a pair of thick slate-grey legs.
"People say youth is pleasant; I myself find middle age far pleasanter,"
she remarked, removing hair pins and combs, and taking up her brush.
When it fell loose her hair only came down to her neck.
"When one was young," she continued, "things could seem so very serious
if one was made that way.
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