No one, young or old, was ever more picturesque or--or more altogether delicious.

It was I who taught her that new way of doing her hair.

By-the-by, how do you like it ?" "I don't like it at all," growled Peter.
"Perhaps you preferred the old way," said Sarah, turning up her short nose rather scornfully.

"Parted, indeed, and brushed down flat over her ears, exactly like that horrid old Mrs.Ash!" "Mrs.Ash has lived with us for thirty years," said Peter, in a tone implying that he desired no liberties to be taken with the names of his faithful retainers.
"That doesn't make her any better looking, however," retorted Sarah.
"In fact, she might have had more chance of learning how to do her hair properly anywhere else, now I come to think of it." "Of course everything at Barracombe is ugly and old-fashioned," said Peter, gloomily.
"Except your mother," said Sarah.
"Sarah! I can't stand any more of this rot!" said Peter, starting from his couch of heather.

"Will you talk sense, or let me ?" Sarah shot a keen glance of inquiry at his moody face.
"Well," she said, in resigned tones, "I did hope to finish my lunch in peace.