“Out with it!” said Miss Wren, with an arch look. “Don’t you think me a queer little comicality?” In shaking her head at him after asking the question, she shook her hair down.

“Oh!” cried Sloppy, in a burst of admiration. “What a lot, and what a colour!”

Miss Wren, with her usual expressive hitch, went on with her work. But, left her hair as it was; not displeased by the effect it had made.

“You don’t live here alone; do you, Miss?” asked Sloppy.

“No,” said Miss Wren, with a chop. “Live here with my fairy godmother.”

“With;” Mr. Sloppy couldn’t make it out; “with who did you say, Miss?”