It is reserved for boys and savages to look down upon them." She sat scornfully down again on her boulder, and put her hands to her loosened hair.
"I can't think why a scene always makes one's hair untidy," said Sarah, suddenly bursting into a laugh; but the whiteness of Peter's face frightened her, and she had some ado to laugh naturally.

"And I am lost without a looking-glass," she added, in a somewhat quavering tone of bravado.
She pulled out a great tortoise-shell dagger, and a heavy mass of glorious red-gold hair fell about her piquant face, and her pretty milk-white throat, down to her waist.
"Dear me!" said Miss Sarah.

She looked around.

Near the bubbling brook, dark peaty hollows held little pools, which offered Nature's mirror for her toilet.
She went to the side of the stream and knelt down.

Her plump white hands dexterously twisted and secured the long burnished coil.