was a
funny sight, indeed. And, as they laughed at her, some big tears of
mortification rolled down her cheeks.

These she furtively wiped away with her hand, and it is needless to say
that this added the finishing touch to the smudgy black and white
countenance.

Miss Lawrence gave up. She laughed until the tears ran down her own
cheeks, for Marjorie was really crying now, and her little handkerchief
only served to spread the inky area around her features.

"My dear child," said the teacher, at last, "I don't know exactly what
to do with you. I can't wash that ink from your face, because it won't
come off with only cold water. You must go home, and yet you can't go
through the streets that way. But I have a brown veil I will lend you.
It is fairly thick, and will at least shield you from observation."

So Miss Lawrence took Marjorie to the cloak-room, arrayed her in her own
hat and her teacher's veil, and then went with the little girl
downstairs to the front door. On the way she talked to her kindly, but
she did not attempt to gloss over her naughty deed.

"I am sending you home, Marjorie," she said, "because you are not fit to
stay here. If you were, I should keep you in, and punish you. You surely
knew it was wrong to spill ink all over everything. You have ruined your
desk, to say nothing of your clothes and your own belongings."

"I'm so sorry, Miss Lawrence," said penitent Midget. "I just tried to be
good this morning. But I happened to think what fun it would be to have
a big, high-peaked witch's hat to prance around in at recess; and I
thought I could make the paper black without such a fuss."

"Well," said Miss Lawrence, with a sigh, "I don't know what to say to
you. Go home now, and tell your mother all about it. I'll leave the
matter of punishment in her hands. I'm sure you didn't mean to do
wrong,--you never do,--but, oh, Marjorie, it _was_ wrong!"

"Yes, it was, Miss Lawrence, and I'm awful sorry. I do hope Mother will
punish me."

Marjorie's hope was so funny that Miss Lawrence smiled, as she kissed
the stained little face through the sheltering veil, and then Midget
trudged off home, thinking that as Miss Lawrence had kissed her, she
hadn't been so very bad, after all.

"What _is_ the matter, child?" exclaimed Mrs. Maynard, as Marjorie
marched into her mother's room. "Why have you that thing on your head,
and why are you home from school at this hour?"

Midget couldn't resist this dramatic s