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 never,” Cornelli said passionately, tightly pressing down the hair on her forehead.

“Oh, really! But this is no affair of mine,” said the teacher calmly. “Only it seems to me a rather disfiguring manner of wearing the hair. You would feel much more comfortable without these weeping-willow-like hangings in front of your eyes.”

Cornelli was still pressing both her hands against her forehead, as if the teacher might try by force to straighten up her hair. But he now began the lesson quite peacefully.

When the ladies were leaving the room after lunch, the cousin said to the child: “You are not going to run off again immediately, Cornelli. You must begin a proper and orderly existence. When your work is done you can read one of your many lovely books. You have enough time after our coffee hour to take walks and to pay visits.”

As usual the work was soon finished. Afterwards Cornelli sat down on the garden bench. Just as before, she put the book in her lap, and it soon fell to the ground. Cornelli