Then Felicity came flying down and called her mother.
Aunt Janet went up and presently came down again with a grim
mouth. She filled a large pan with warm water and carried it
upstairs. We dared ask her no questions, but when Felicity came
down to wash the dishes we bombarded her.
"What on earth is the matter with Cecily?" demanded Dan. "Is she sick?"
"No, she isn't. I warned her not to put her hair in curls but she
wouldn't listen to me. I guess she wishes she had now. When
people haven't natural curly hair they shouldn't try to make it
curly. They get punished if they do."
"Look here, Felicity, never mind all that. Just tell us what has
happened Sis."
"Well, this is what has happened her. That ninny of a Sara Ray
brought up a bottle of mucilage instead of Judy's curling-fluid,
and Cecily put her hair up with THAT. It's in an awful state."
"Good gracious!" exclaimed Dan. "Look here, will she ever get it out?"
"Goodness knows. She's got her head in soak now. Her hair is
just matted together hard as a board. That's what comes of
vanity," said Felicity, than whom no vainer girl existed.
Poor Cecily paid dearly enough for HER vanity. She spent a bad
forenoon, made no easier by her mother's severe rebukes. For an
hour she "soaked" her head; that is, she stood over a panful of
warm water and kept dipping her head in with tightly shut eyes.
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