"_Can't_ I go, Marjorie?"

"Not to-day, darling."

"Oh, dear!" she moaned. "I did want to so."

"I know it, and I'm so sorry. I am more sorry than you are. I was so
sorry that I could not talk about it last night."

"Can't I know the reason?" she asked patiently.

"The reason is this: Aunt Prue would not let you go. She would not let
you go if she knew about something that happened in school yesterday."

"Was it something so bad?"

"It was something very uncomfortable; something that made me very
unhappy, and if you were old enough to understand you would not want to
go. You wouldn't go for anything."

"Then what makes you go?" asked Prue quickly.

"Because I have to."

"Will it hurt you to-day?"

"Yes."

"Then I wouldn't go. Tell Aunt Prue; she won't make you go."

"I don't want to tell her; it would make her cry."

"Then don't tell her. I'll stay home then--if I have to. But I want to
go. I can stand it if you can."

Marjorie laughed at her resignation and resolution and rolling her over
pushed her gently out down to the carpet. Perhaps it would be better
to stay home if there were something so dreadful at school, and Deborah
might let her make molasses candy.

"Won't you please stay home with me and make molasses candy, or
peppermint drops?"

"We'll do it after school! won't that do? And you can stay with Deborah
in the kitchen, and she'll tell you stories."

"Her stories are sad," said Prue, mournfully.

"Ask her to tell you a funny one, then."

"I don't believe she knows any. She told me yesterday about her little
boy who didn't want to go to school one day and she was washing and
said he might stay home because he coaxed so hard. And she went to find
him on the wharf and nobody could tell her where he was. And she went
down close to the water and looked in and he was there with his face up
and a stick in his hand and he was dead in the water and she saw him."

"Is that true?" asked Marjorie, in surprise.

"Yes, true every word. And then her husband died and she came to live
with Aunt Prue's father and mother ever so long ago. And she cried and
it was sad."

"But I know she knows some funny stories. She will tell you about Aunt
Prue when she was little."

"She has told me. And about my papa. He used to like to have muffins for
tea."

"Oh, I know! Now I know! I'll take you to Lizzie Harrowgate's to stay
until I come from school. You will like that. There is a baby there
and a li