ice's trusting, gentle kindness had disarmed him,
and promised the curate that he would henceforward be a better man.

I do not mean to say that Alice never did any wrong thing. She was,
however, so sorry for a fault, she repented so soon, and then did
all she could to repair it, that no one could help forgiving her.
She had a trick of squinting now and then. Her mother thought that
my curls perplexed the bright eyes under them; and, to prevent the
evil, drew up all the pretty locks in a bunch, tied them together,
and said, "Now, Alice, your hair is all out of the way, and you will
not squint."

Alice was annoyed by this; she was a little vain of my beauty, and
the disregard of her looks, which she thought these words indicated,
fretted her.

Her father saw this, and, to make the tying less disagreeable, said
to her, one day, "Alice, I see you don't like to have your hair tied
up; you don't think it reasonable. Come now, bear it patiently for a
month; and, at the end of that time, I will give you the little work
box I am ornamenting with straw."

Alice agreed, and promised to be patient, and to keep her hair tied
up.

During the month, it happened that Alice was invited to a little
party of girls at her aunt's.

Alice hoped that her father and mother would absolve her from the
promise, that afternoon; but no, her mother only tied up her hair
with a new ribbon for the occasion. I, with all my beautiful curls,
was drawn away from her dear face as far as possible. Alice found
this hard to bear.

As she was on the way to the party, she could hardly keep from
crying.

"What is the matter?" said her father.

"Nothing, father," said Alice, "only a little headache; mother has
tied my hair too tight."

"Loosen it," said her father.

Alice did loosen it, so that the string was just ready to come off.

When she arrived at her aunt's, where her father left her, I was
just escaping from my hateful confinement, and her aunt took hold of
the hair as the string fell on the floor.

"Shall I tie it on again, Alice, or shall your pretty hair go just
so? I don't see the use of tying it, but, if you really wish it, my
dear, just step up stairs, and Jane will do it for you very nicely.
Perhaps your mother would choose it to be tied; she is very
particular. It is a pity to confine such beautiful curls, but, if it
must be so, we can't help it. Will you go up stairs? Here is the
string; it dropped on the floor."

"No," said