; and as she herself was not at that time much
interested in such matters, she was not prepared to keep up Marty's
zeal, but was inclined to allow her to go on with the work or give it
up, just as she chose, as she did in matters of less importance.

However, Mrs. Ashford knew that, whatever the trouble was, it would all
come out sooner or later, for Marty always told her everything. So she
merely said,

"Well, as it is so bleak to-day and you have a cold, perhaps it would
be just as well for you not to go out."

Marty, disinclined to play, took one of her "Bessie Books" and sat down
by the window. Though so cheerless out-doors, with the wind whistling
among the leafless trees and blowing the dust about, that sitting room
was certainly very cosey and pleasant.

Marty's "pretty mamma," as she often called her, in her becoming
afternoon gown of soft, dark red stuff, sat in a low rocker in front of
the bright fire busy with her embroidery and softly singing as she
worked. Freddie, on the rug at her feet, played quietly with a string of
buttons. The only sounds in the room were Mrs. Ashford's murmured song
and an occasional chirp from the canary. But all at once this cheerful
quietness was broken by loud sobbing.

Poor Marty had been so unhappy the last two days, and now added to what
she felt to be the meanness of appropriating that missionary penny, was
the disappointment of not being at the meeting, for she was longing to
be there, though not feeling fit to go. Besides, it was a great load on
her mind that she had not told her mamma how she got the chair, nor what
was the reason she did not want to go to the meeting. And now she could
endure her wretchedness no longer.

"What's the matter, Marty?" exclaimed Mrs. Ashford, much startled. "Are
you ill? Is your throat sore? Come here and tell me what ails you?"

"Oh, mamma, I'm very, very wicked," sobbed Marty, and running to her
mother's arms she tried to tell her troubles, but cried so that she
could not be understood.

"Never mind, never mind," said her mother soothingly. "Wait until you
can stop crying and then tell me all about it."

Freddie was dreadfully distressed to see his sister in such a state and
did all he could to comfort her, bringing her his horse-reins and a
whole lapful of building-blocks, and was rather surprised that they did
not have the desired effect.

When Marty became quieter she told the whole story of the dolls' chair
and the missionar