Daisy Forrester slapped the brush onto the scarred top of the bureau and glared at her reflection in the mirror. Why hadn’t she left it alone? All the brushing, intended to tame her flaming-red coils into a sleek, smooth cap, had instead created a wild, fuzzy mess. Turning from the mirror, she dug a faded calico bonnet from the top bureau drawer and jammed it over her head. She flicked a hopeful glance at the mirror. Yes, the bonnet covered her hair.But of course it didn’t hide her plain face.Closing her eyes, she tied the bonnet strings so tightly they cut into the underside of her chin. But she didn’t care. If she found no pleasure in her own reflection, why would anyone else want to look upon her? The tighter the bonnet, the more of her it would hide. Her morning toilette complete, she trudged to the bed and poked Marion on the shoulder. She might have poked a little harder than was necessary to waken her roommate, but the long locks of spun gold spilling across Marion’s pillow seemed to mock her.Marion sat up with a start, her big blue eyes blinking in confusion.
