She poked and pinched them to no avail.
"Oh, dear!" she sighed, "whenever I try to be good and helpful, I'm bad and troublesome. Now I must go and tell Mrs. Spencer about it. I wonder what she'll say. I wish I could tell mother first, but they'd hear me on the telephone. Perhaps the old things will come alive again. Maybe they've only fainted."
But no sign of life came from the four victims, who calmly floated on top of the water, as if scorning the clean white stones and shells below. They looked so pretty and so pathetic, that Marjorie burst into tears, and ran downstairs in search of Mrs. Spencer. That lady heard the tale with a look of mingled amusement and annoyance on her face.
"I've heard you were a mischievous child," she said, "but I didn't think you'd begin your pranks so soon."
"But it wasn't pranks, Mrs. Spencer," said Midget, earnestly. "I truly wanted to be help, fill, and I fixed the bird's cage so nicely, I thought I'd fix the fishes' cage too."
"But you must have known that fishes die out of water."
"No'm; I didn't. At least,—it seems to me now that I ought to have known it, but I didn't think about it when I took 'em out. You see, I never had any goldfish of my own."
"Well, don't worry about it, child. It can't be helped now. But I suppose
Delight will feel terribly. She was so fond of her goldfish."
"I'm sure Father will let me give her some more," said Midget, "but I suppose she won't care for any others."
She went back to the library, where she had left Delight asleep, and found her just waking up.