For an instant Marjorie was paralyzed with horror; then she stifled a
shriek and stood still gazing down through quick tears upon the yellow
fragments. Fortunately her grandmother, being very deaf, had passed the
door and heard no sound. What would have happened to her if her
grandmother had looked in!
How disappointed Miss Prudence would be! It belonged to her friend and
how could she remedy the loss?
Stooping, with eyes so blinded with tears that she could scarcely see the
pieces she took into her hand, she picked up each bit, and then on the
spur of the moment hid them among the thick branches of hemlock. Now what
was she to do next? Could she earn money to buy another hundred-years-old
yellow pitcher? And if she could earn the money, where could she find the
pitcher? She would not confess to Miss Prudence until she found some way
of doing something for her. Oh, dear! This was not the kind of thing that
she had been wishing would happen! And how could she go down with such a
face to hear the rest about punctuation?
"Marjorie! Marjorie!" shouted Uncle James from below, "here's Cap'n Rheid
at the gate, and if you want to catch a ride you'd better go a ways with
him."
The opportunity to run away was better than the ride; hastening down to
the hammock she laid the Bible in Miss Prudence's lap.
"I have to go, you see," she exclaimed, hurriedly, averting her face.
"Then our desultory conversation must be finished another time."
"If that's what it means, it means delightful!" said Marjorie.
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