The damage done proved external rather than internal, so after assuring herself that no bones were broken Mrs. Wiggs constituted herself a salvage corps.

“Take off yer coat out here, Mr. Bob, an’ I’ll take off Austry’s dress.  Them’s the worst, ‘ceptin’ her plaits.  Now, we’ll all go up to the kitchen, an’ see what kin be did.”

Now, Fate, or it may have been the buggy at the gate, decreed that just as they turned the corner of the house, Lucy Olcott should be coming up the walk.  For a moment she stood bewildered at the sight that greeted her.  Redding, in his shirt sleeves, was leading Australia by the hand; the little girl wore a red-flannel petticoat, and over her face and hands and to the full length of her flaxen braids ran sticky streams of bright green paint.

Involuntarily, Lucy looked at Redding for explanation, and they both laughed.

“Ain’t it lucky it was the back of her head ’stid of the front?” said Mrs. Wiggs, coming up; “it might ‘a’ put her eyes out.  Pore chile, she looks like a Mollygraw!  Come right in, an’ let’s git to work.”

Billy was despatched for turpentine; Lucy, with an apron pinned about her, began operations on Australia’s hair, while Redding sat helplessly by, waiting for Mrs. Wiggs to make his coat presentable.

“I am afraid her hair will have to be cut,” said Lucy, ruefully, as she held up a tangled snarl of yellow and green.

“All right,” Mrs. Wiggs said promptly.  “Whatever you say is all right.”

But Australia felt differently; her sobs, suppressed for a time, broke forth afresh.

“I ain’t goin’ to have my hair cut off!” she wept.  “Jes’ leave it on this a-way.”

Mrs. Wiggs commanded and Lucy entreated in vain.  Finally Redding drew his chair up in front of the small girl.

“Australia, listen to me just a moment, won’t you?  Please!”

She uncovered one eye.

“You wouldn’t want green hair, would you?”

A violent shake of the head.

“Well, if you will let Miss Olcott cut off all that ugly green hair, and give the pretty curls a chance to grow back, I’ll give you—­ let’s see, what shall I give you?”

“A doll-buggy an’ dishes,” suggested Europena, who was standing by.

“Yes,” he said, “doll-buggy and dishes, and a dollar besides!”

Such munificence was not to be withstood.  Australia suffered herself to be shorn, in view of the future tempering of the wind.

“You orter been a hoss-trainer, Mr. Bob,” said Mrs. Wiggs, admiringly, when the deed was accomplished; “yer voice jes’ makes folks do things!”

“Not everybody, Mrs. Wiggs,” he said grimly.

“Where do you suppose Billy’s went with the turkentine?  I declare that boy would be a good one to send after trouble!  Oh, you ain’t goin’ to try an’ wear it this a-way?” she said, as Redding insisted on putting on his coat.

As he turned to the door, a light hand touched his arm.  Lucy unfastened the violets at her belt, and timidly held them toward him.