Page:Carolyn Wells - Patty Fairfield.djvu/173

 At the writing-desk sat a person whose head was entirely bald. Not a spear of hair was anywhere visible on the bare, pinky-white scalp, and the round head was smooth and shiny as a billiard-ball.

Then the head turned round and faced Patty, with rolling eyes and a weird grimace. But Patty looked so astounded and frightened that the face broke into a reassuring smile, and Nan's voice said:

"Why, Patty, don't be scared; it's only I. Didn't you know I wore a wig? There it is, on that chair."

And sure enough, there was Nan's mop of frizzed, flaxen hair hanging on a chair-back.

"But," said Patty, coming nearer, and still unable quite to comprehend it all, "why don't you have any hair yourself?"

"Well, you see," said Nan, as she sealed and addressed the letter she had been writing, "I had typhoid fever just before I left home, and my hair came out so, that I had to have it all shaved off. So now I am wearing a wig until it grows again. But it is so warm to-day, I took my wig off for a few moments to rest my head."