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 with fright in a single night? My mind was already busy trying to remember the names of all the patent hair-washes I had always hitherto read of with such scorn. I tried to move towards the looking-glass, but my knees seemed to fail me. I turned, and looked Ermyntrude straight in the eyes.

'Ermyntrude,' I said solemnly, 'what colour do you call my hair?'

Ermyntrude backed perceptibly. I think she thought that I was mad. 'Oh, a beautiful golden brown, miss, as it always was, and I hope always will be,' she exclaimed hastily and propitiatingly. 'Ermyntrude,' I said, with a sigh of infinite relief, 'you shall have that pale-blue muslin to send home to your sister Beatrice as soon as ever I have worn it twice more.' That seemed to restore Ermyntrude's faith in my sanity, and she evidently gave up the idea of madness at once. I went over to the looking-glass while she expressed her gratitude. 'But, oh, you do look pale, miss,' she said a moment later, her curiosity evidently reviving. I not only looked pale as I surveyed myself critically in the glass but I felt pale, which is even worse. Yet I was not going to let Ermyntrude know it or she would be sure to fuss—nothing annoys me more than being fussed over when I'm not well—and bring out all Aunt Agatha's remedies, which were not at all what I wanted. There was only one thing that would do me any good, and