Kitty had read
in a magazine that sun-baths were good for the hair; so both she
and Cecily tossed their long braids over the window-sill and let
them hang there in the broiling sun-shine. And while Cecily sat
thus, diligently working a fraction sum on her slate, that base
Cyrus asked permission to go out, having previously borrowed a
pair of scissors from one of the big girls who did fancy work at
the noon recess. Outside, Cyrus sneaked up close to the window
and cut off a piece of Cecily's hair.
This rape of the lock did not produce quite such terrible
consequences as the more famous one in Pope's poem, but Cecily's
soul was no less agitated than Belinda's. She cried all the way
home from school about it, and only checked her tears when Dan
declared he'd fight Cyrus and make him give it up.
"Oh, no, You mustn't." said Cecily, struggling with her sobs. "I
won't have you fighting on my account for anything. And besides,
he'd likely lick you--he's so big and rough. And the folks at
home might find out all about it, and Uncle Roger would never give
me any peace, and mother would be cross, for she'd never believe
it wasn't my fault. It wouldn't be so bad if he'd only taken a
little, but he cut a great big chunk right off the end of one of
the braids.
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