"Ah, yes, but an accident that ought not to have happened. It was an accident brought about by your own wrong-doing. What possessed you to take that great picture down from the wall, and why did you splash ink on it?"
So then all the children together told the whole story of the auction game.
"But it was lots of fun!" Marjorie wound up, with great enthusiasm.
"Delight is grand to play games with. She acts just like a grown-up lady.
And Flip Henderson is funny too."
"But Midget," said her mother, "I can't let you go on with this Jinks
Club of yours, if you're always going to spoil things."
"No, of course not. But, Mother, I don't think it will happen again. And anyway, next time we're going to meet at Delight's."
"That doesn't help matters any, my child. I'd rather you'd spoil my things than Mrs. Spencer's,—if spoiling must be done. Well, the case is too serious for me. I'll leave the whole matter to your father,—I hear him coming up the steps now."
Soon Mr. Maynard entered the room, and found his whole family grouped round the ruined picture.
"Wowly—wow-wow!" he exclaimed. "Has there been an earthquake? For nothing else could wreck my pet picture like that!"
"No, Father," said King; "it wasn't an earthquake. I did it,—mostly. We were playing auction, and my foot got tangled up in the picture wire, and the inkstand upset, and smashed the glass, and—and I'm awful sorry."
King was too big a boy to cry, but there was a lump in his throat, as he saw his father's look of real regret at the loss of his valued picture.