for his opinion. She felt more able to face it
now that she had eaten something, for without knowing it she had been
hungry as well as miserable, and had quite forgotten that she had had no
dinner. She watched Uncle Joshua nervously. Would he ask for more tea.
No. He wiped his mouth with the red handkerchief, looked straight at
Lilac, and suddenly spoke:

"And how's the picture going forrard then?"

After this question it was easy to tell the whole story, from its
beginning to its unlucky end. During its progress the cobbler listened
with the deepest attention, gave now a nod, and now a shake of the head
or a muttered "Humph!" and when it was finished he fingered his cheek
thoughtfully, and said:

"And so he wouldn't paint you--eh? and Mother was angry?"

"She's dreadful angry," sighed Lilac.

"Did you think it 'ud please her, now?" asked Uncle Joshua.

"N-no," answered Lilac hesitatingly; "but I never thought as how she'd
make so much fuss. And after all no one don't like it. Do you think as
how it looks _very_ bad, Uncle?"

The cobbler put his spectacles carefully straight and studied Lilac's
face with earnest attention. "What I consider is this here," he said as
he finished his examination and leant back in his chair. "It makes you
look like lots of other little gells, that's what it does. Not so much
like White Lilac as you used to. I liked it best as it wur afore."

"Peter, he said that too," said Lilac. "No one likes it except
Agnetta."

"Ah! And what made Agnetta and all of 'em cut their hair that way?"
asked Uncle Joshua.

"Because Gusta Greenways told Bella as how all the ladies in London did
it," answered Lilac simply.

"That's where it is," said Uncle Joshua. "My little maid, there's
things as is fitting and there's things as isn't fitting. Perhaps it's
fitting for London ladies to wear their hair so. Very well, then let
them do it. But why should you and Agnetta and the rest copy 'em?
You're not ladies. You're country girls with honest work to do, and
proud you ought to be of it. As proud every bit as the grandest lady as
ever was, who never put her hand to a useful thing in her life. I'm not
saying you're better than her. She's got her own place, an' her own
lessons to learn, an' she's got to do the best she can with her life.
But you're different, because your life's different, an' you'll never
look like her whatever you put on your outside. If a thing isn't fit
for what