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feelings。 Miss Temple had looked down when he first began to speak to her; but she now gazed straight before her; and her face; naturally pale as marble; appeared to be assuming also the coldness and fixity of that material; especially her mouth; closed as if it would have required a sculptor’s chisel to open it; and her brow settled gradually into petrified severity。
Meantime; Mr。 Brocklehurst; standing on the hearth with his hands behind his back; majestically surveyed the whole school。 Suddenly his eye gave a blink; as if it had met something that either dazzled or shocked its pupil; turning; he said in more rapid accents than he had hitherto used—
“Miss Temple; Miss Temple; what—what is that girl with curled hair? Red hair; ma’am; curled—curled all over?” And extending his cane he pointed to the awful object; his hand shaking as he did so。
“It is Julia Severn;” replied Miss Temple; very quietly。
“Julia Severn; ma’am! And why has she; or any other; curled hair? Why; in defiance of every precept and principle of this house; does she conform to the world so openly—here in an evangelical; charitable establishment—as to wear her hair one mass of curls?”
“Julia’s hair curls naturally;” returned Miss Temple; still more quietly。
“Naturally! Yes; but we are not to conform to nature; I wish these girls to be the children of Grace: and why that abundance? I have again and again intimated that I desire the hair to be arranged closely; modestly; plainly。 Miss Temple; that girl’s hair must be cut off entirely; I will send a barber to…morrow: and I see others who have far too much of the excrescence—that tall girl; tell her to turn round。 Tell all the first form to rise up and direct their faces to the wall。”
Miss Temple passed her
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