Mollie studied his face closely while she was speaking, and saw
nothing but a grave and earnest interest in her project. She could not
see deep enough to discover the indignation that was fuming over the
loss of her pretty locks, and the purpose that was brewing to cure her
of her folly.

"Don't have any half-way work about it, Mollie," said Mr. John. "Do
the thing thoroughly, if you undertake it." "Oh yes, indeed!" said
Mollie.

"If you should need an occasional reminder, I will try and help you,"
said he; "for of course it wont do to be off guard at all. But now get
your hat, and we'll go for some ice-cream. I know you need cooling off
this warm evening."

Mollie skipped about to run toward the house.

"Be careful of your steps," he called; and she tramped as boyishly as
she could.

"No, don't take hold of my hand," as she came back and slipped her
fingers in his. "Put your hands in your pockets."

"I've only one pocket," she answered meekly, putting her right hand in
it.

"Difficulties at once, aren't there?" said Mr. John. "Your clothes
want reforming, you see. You'll have to put on Bloomers."

"Oh!" said Mollie.