The Talkative Wig | Page 7

and tired; you had better stay."
These words Alice said with such a sweet, confiding earnestness, that the wicked purpose died away from the heart of the intended thief. He felt as if he was in the presence of an angel. He looked at her in wonder. All the evil in him seemed to depart.
"You are very good," he said. "Do you take care of the house all alone by yourself?"
"O yes," she replied; "it does not take much trouble. There is no one to harm us. Would you like a book to read till papa and mamma come home; here is my Testament; or would you like I should read to you?"
"Read to me," said the man.
As Alice read from the history of Jesus, the tears ran down the robber's cheeks; he said nothing.
When the curate came home, he repeated Alice's invitation to dine. The man accepted it. After dinner, when he thanked Alice and her father for their kindness to him, he said to the curate, "Your daughter is an angel, and has saved me from sin. I go away a better man than I came."
He then confessed the evil intentions with which he had entered the house, told how Alice'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 Alice, "it is of no consequence;" and she put the string into her pocket.
Again I fell upon her beautiful forehead, and kissed her rosy cheeks; and every one admired my beauty.
Alice tried to forget that she was breaking her promise, and enjoyed herself pretty well.
When she went home, her mother said, "Why, Alice, your hair is all over your face; how comes that?"
"The string was nearly off when I went in, and then it fell on the floor, and aunt said I looked better without it. Here is the string, which she picked up."
"I should have thought your aunt would have let you go up to Jane, and have it tied properly; you should have asked her leave."
"I suppose," said the father, "that Alice felt too shy. It is no matter for one day. Alice, I dare say, kept her promise as