Don't you let on."
I promised I wouldn't and Peter went off with a light heart. He
said he meant to write two lines every day till he got it done.
Cupid was playing his world-old tricks with others than poor Peter
that spring. Allusion has been made in these chronicles to one,
Cyrus Brisk, and to the fact that our brown-haired, soft-voiced
Cecily had found favour in the eyes of the said Cyrus. Cecily did
not regard her conquest with any pride. On the contrary, it
annoyed her terribly to be teased about Cyrus. She declared she
hated both him and his name. She was as uncivil to him as sweet
Cecily could be to anyone, but the gallant Cyrus was nothing
daunted. He laid determined siege to Cecily's young heart by all
the methods known to love-lorn swains. He placed delicate
tributes of spruce gum, molasses taffy, "conversation" candies and
decorated slate pencils on her desk; he persistently "chose" her
in all school games calling for a partner; he entreated to be
allowed to carry her basket from school; he offered to work her
sums for her; and rumour had it that he had made a wild statement
to the effect that he meant to ask if he might see her home some
night from prayer meeting. Cecily was quite frightened that he
would; she confided to me that she would rather die than walk home
with him, but that if he asked her she would be too bashful to say
no.
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