immodesty: riding astride and wearing those scandalous pepper-and-salts
and showing her legs. If mother was right, if she WAS brazen, somehow it
didn't tie up to claim confusion because her--

Oh, legs!

She didn't try to explain. With hanging head she went meekly to her
room. Mother had ruled she must stay there, in disgrace, till father
came home and a proper punishment was decided upon.

It was not a short or glad afternoon.

At supper father came up to see her. He was disapproving, of course,
though she felt that his heart wasn't entirely unsympathetic. Even
though he told her Mr. Picker had made him pay for the bucket of candy.
Missy knew it must have gone hard with him to be put in the wrong by Mr.
Picker.

"Oh, father, I'm sorry!--I really am!"

Father patted her hand. He was an angel.

"Did you bring it home?" brightening at a thought.

"Bring what home?" asked father.

"Why, the candy."

"Of course not."

"I don't see why, if you had to pay for it. The bottom part wasn't hurt
at all."

Father laughed then, actually laughed. She was glad to see the serious
look removed from his face; but she still begrudged all that candy.

Nor was that the end of the part played by the candy. That night, as
she was kneeling in her nightgown by the window, gazing out at the white
moonlight and trying to summon the lovely thoughts the night's magic
used to bring, the door opened softly and mother came tiptoeing in.

"You ought to be in bed, dear," she said. No, Missy reflected, she could
never, never be really cross with mother. She climbed into bed and, with
a certain degree of comfort, watched mother smooth up the sheet and fold
the counterpane carefully over the foot-rail.

"Mrs. O'Neill just phoned," mother said. "Tess is very sick. It seems
she and Arthur got hold of that bucket of candy."

"Oh," said Missy.

That was all she said, all she felt capable of saying. The twisted
thoughts, emotions and revulsions which surge in us as we watch the
inexplicable workings of Fate are often difficult of expression. But,
after mother had kissed her good night and gone, she lay pondering for
a long time. Life is curiously unfair. That Tess and Arthur should have
got the candy for which SHE suffered, that the very hours she'd been
shut up with shame and disgrace THEY were gorging themselves, seemed her
climactic crown of sorrow.

Yes, life was queer...

Almost not worth while to try to be athletic-she didn't real