h out without it, and of course
when I haven't got it, I can't spend it."

She dashed about half way, when all at once the vision of the lovely
chair rose up before her, and the desire to possess it was greater than
ever. She stopped again to think, and the result was, she returned and
got the penny--it was not quite so hard to take it out the second time
as it was the first--and started for the street once more.

Perhaps she might have repented and gone back again, had not her mother,
who was entertaining some ladies in the parlor, called to her, "Marty,
don't race up and down stairs so," and then Marty went out with the
penny in her hand.

CHAPTER VI.

THE EMPTY BOX.

So the chair was bought and Marty tried to think she was perfectly
satisfied, but it was strange how little she cared for it after all. She
showed her purchase to her mother, who said it was quite pretty, but not
very substantial; that she feared it would not last long.

Marty put it in her dolls' house and played with it, trying hard to
enjoy it, but her conscience was so ill at ease that she soon began to
hate the sight of the chair, and by Friday evening she had pushed it
away back on the shelf behind everything. The sight of the red box, too,
was more than she could stand, it seemed to look so reproachfully at
her; even after she had laid one of her white aprons over it she
disliked to open the drawer.

There was a special meeting of the band that Saturday, as they were
getting ready for their anniversary. No contributions were expected, so
that it did not matter about Marty having no money; but she was feeling
so low-spirited and ashamed that she simply could not go among the
others nor take part in missionary exercises.

"Are you going for Edith this afternoon or is she coming for you?"
inquired Mrs. Ashford.

"I'm not going to the meeting," replied Marty in a low voice. "I told
Edith I wasn't going."

"Not going!" exclaimed Mrs. Ashford in surprise. "Why, you are not tired
of it already, are you?"

"No, ma'am," Marty answered, "but I don't want to go to-day."

Mrs. Ashford thought perhaps Marty and Edith had had a little falling
out, though it must be said they very seldom quarreled; or that Marty
was beginning to tire a little of her new enterprise, for she was rather
in the habit of taking things up with great energy and soon becoming
weary of them. Mrs. Ashford had not expected her missionary enthusiasm
to last very long