Did I do the wrong thing, I asked myself? These people seemed rather strange, but they were going to pay me well. And what use was my hair? I can’t buy food with my hair. Perhaps I was making a terrible mistake. The next day I received this letter from the same gentleman. I’ll read it to you.
“The COPPER BEECHES,
NEARWINGCHESTER.
Dear Miss Hunter,
Miss Stoper has given me your address. I have not yet found a teacher. Would you like the job? I can give you £120 a year and the work is not difficult. Sometime my wife will ask you to wear a blue dress which belonged to my daughter, Alice. She lives in America now. She will also ask you to sit near the window sometimes. That isn’t difficult, is it? But you will have to cut your hair short. I know that you would like to keep it; that is the reason that I am paying you so much. Please accept the job. I shall meet you at Winchester Station. Write and tell me the time of your train.