But the pencil's point was broken, and, of course, it had not occurred to her to bring a knife. She had promised Grandma not to leave the stairs without permission, so there was nothing to do but to give up the idea of letter-writing, and occupy herself with something else.
"And, anyway," she thought, "it must be nearly dinner time, for I've been here now for hours and hours."
She glanced at the clock, and found to her amazement that it was just twenty minutes since her grandmother had left her alone.
"The clock must have stopped!" she said, bending her ear to listen.
But it hadn't, and Marjorie suddenly realized that a whole day, solitary and alone, is an interminable length of time.
"Oh, dear," she sighed, putting her head down on her arms on the step above, "I do wish I had gone up the Other Stairs! This day is going to last forever! I just know it is! But if it ever DOES get over, I never want to see the Front Stairs again!"
CHAPTER X
A LONG DAY
Marjorie had expected to derive much satisfaction, during her sojourn on the stairs, from playing with her kitten. But Puff ran away almost immediately, and no amount of calling or coaxing could bring her back.
Sighing deeply, Marjorie tried to amuse herself reading the books she had brought. But the light was not very good on the stairs, and somehow, too, the books seemed to have lost their interest. Thinking over what she could do to make the time pass, she remembered her paint-box. She was fond of painting, and concluded she would try to paint a little sketch of the stairs to put in her Memory Book to represent this dreadful day.