be missed."

"No, Miss Lucy," said Mr. Dinsmore, looking at them over his paper, "you
can't have one of my curls; I can't spare it."

"I don't want one of _your_ curls, Mr. Dinsmore," laughed Lucy, merrily.
"I didn't ask for it. Your hair is very pretty, too, but it would be
quite too short."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Lucy, if my ears deceived me," said he, with
mock gravity, "but I was quite certain I heard you asking for one of my
curls. Perhaps, though, you are not aware of the fact that my curls grow
on two heads."

"I don't know what you mean, Mr. Dinsmore," replied Lucy, laughing again,
"but it was one of Elsie's curls I asked for."

"Elsie doesn't own any," said he; "they all belong to me. I let her wear
them, to be sure, but that is all; she has no right to give them away."

He turned to his paper again, and Elsie bent over her work, her face
flushed, and her little hand trembling so that she could scarcely hold
her needle.

"I'm afraid I ought to tell papa," she thought, "that I did give one of
my curls away. I never thought about his caring, but I might have known,
because when I wanted my hair cut last summer, he said they shouldn't one
of them be touched. Oh! dear, why didn't I think of that? I am afraid he
will be very much displeased."