"I hope something dreadful will happen to him some day," said Elizabeth. And with that came the tears--a torrential rain, through which the lightning played and the thunder crashed. Miss White in real terror, left her, to get some smelling-salts, and the instant she was alone Elizabeth ran across the room and stood before her mirror; then she took a pair of scissors in her shaking hand and hacked off lock after lock, strand after strand, of her shining hair. When it was done, she looked at the russet stubble that was left with triumphant rage. "There, now! I guess he won't think my hair is nicer than Nannie's any more. I _hate_ him!" she said, and laughed out loud, her vivid face wet and quivering. Miss White, hurrying in, heard the laugh, and stood transfixed: "Elizabeth!" The poor, ugly, shorn head, the pile of gleaming hair on the bureau, the wicked, tear-stained, laughing face brought the poor lady's heart into her throat. "Elizabeth!" she faltered again; and Elizabeth ran and flung her arms about her neck. "David forgot all about me," she sobbed. "He is always hurting my feelings! And I can't _bear_ to have my feelings hurt. Oh, Cherry-pie, kiss me! Kiss me!" That was the end of the outburst; the ensuing penitence was unbridled and temporary. The next morning she waylaid David to offer him some candy, which he took with serene unconsciousness of any bad behavior on his part. "Awfully sorry I forgot about Willis's," he said casually; and took a hearty handful of candy. Elizabeth, looking into the nearly empty box, winced; then said, bravely, "Take some more." He took a good deal more. "David, I--I'm sorry I cut my hair." "Why, I didn't notice," David said, wrinkling up his freckled nose and glancing at her with some interest. "It looks awfully, doesn't it?" "David, don't tell your mother, will you? She looks so sort of horrified when I've been provoked. It almost makes me mad again," Elizabeth said, candidly. "Materna thinks it's dreadful in you." "Do you mind about my hair?" Elizabeth asked. David laughed uproariously. "Why on earth should _I_ mind? If I were a girl, you bet I'd keep my hair cut." "Do you forgive me?" she said, in a whisper; "if you don't forgive me, I shall die." "Forgive you?" said David, astonished, his mouth full of candy; "why, it's nothing to me if you cut off your hair. Only I shouldn't think you'd want to look so like 'Sam Hill.' But I tell you what, Elizabeth; you're too thin-skinned. What's the use of getting mad over every little thing?" "It wasn't so very little, to be forgotten." "Well, yes; I suppose you were disappointed, but--" Elizabeth's color began to rise. "Oh, I wasn't so terribly disappointed. You needn't flatter yourself. I simply don't like to be insulted." "Ah, now, Elizabeth," he coaxed, "there you go again!" "No, I don't. I'm _not_ angry. Only--you went with Blair; you didn't want--" she choked, and flew back into the house, deaf to his clumsy and troubled explanations.