184 SWALLOW BROW 



mirror, and hardly heard the talk about 



the two visitors coming that day. 



After the meal, when Great-uncle Sufford 

 had gone into his study to read the paper 

 before going down to the meadow to paint, 

 Michael pulled her hair and said roughly, 

 for he was her eldest brother, " What were 

 you grinning at during brekker, eh, kid ? " 



" Nothing," replied Jo, wishing she had 

 a stick to bang his ankles. 



" Well, ugly-face, if you are contemplating 

 ragging my room, or sewing my pyjamas 

 up, or trying any nonsense, you look out," 

 he said with the dignity of one whose 

 voice had broken six weeks and three days. 



" I'm not ugly-face ! " she cried. 



" Ho, aren't you! You're worse! " He 

 pulled her hair again. 



" Oh, I hate you, Micky." 



She ran out of the room, and upstairs in 

 her bedroom she stared mournfully at her 

 own image. It was true, she was an ugly- 

 face, as Michael had said ! Oh, and she 



