the front of
her dress! All the six invalid brooches, just restored to health, that is
to say _pins_, were there in their glory. The turquoise one in the
middle, the coral and the tortoise-shell ones at each side of it, the
three others, the silver bird, the mosaic and the mother-of-pearl
arranged in a half-moon below them, in the front of the child's dress.
They were placed with the greatest neatness and precision; it must have
cost Molly both time and trouble to put each in the right spot.

Grandmother stared, aunty stared, Miss Wren looked at Molly curiously.

"Odd little girl," she remarked, in what she honestly believed to be a
perfectly inaudible whisper, to grandmother. "She is not so nice as the
other, not so like poor Mary. But I wonder, my dear, I really do wonder
at your allowing her to wear so much jewellery. In _our_ young days----"

For once in her life grandmother was _almost_ rude to Miss Wren. She
interrupted her reminiscences of "our young days" by turning sharply to
Molly.

"Molly," she said, "go up to your room at once and take off that
nonsense. What _is_ the meaning of it? Do you intend to make a joke of
what you should be so ashamed of, your own carelessness?"

Molly stared up in blank surprise and distress.

"Grandmother dear," she said confusedly. "It was my _plan_. It was to
make me careful."

Grandmother felt much annoyed, and Molly's self-defence vexed her more.

"Go up to your room," she repeated. "You have vexed me very much. Either
you intend to make a joke of what I hoped would have been a lesson to you
for all your life, or else, Molly, it is as if you had not all your wits.
Go up to your room at once."

Molly said no more. Never before had grandmother and aunty looked at her
"like that." She turned and ran out of the room and up to her own, and
throwing herself down on the bed burst into tears.

"I thought it was such a good plan," she sobbed. "I wanted to please
grandmother. And I do believe she thinks I meant to mock her. Oh dear! oh
dear! oh dear!"

Downstairs the luncheon bell rang, and they all seated themselves at
table, but no Molly appeared.

"Shall I run up and tell her to come down?" suggested Sylvia, but "no,"
said grandmother, "it is better not."

But grandmother's heart was sore.

"I shall be so sorry if there is anything of sulkiness or resentfulness
in Molly," she said to herself. "What _could_ the child have had in her
head?"

CHAPTER V.

MOLL