"I think it hurt her more than it did you," said Uncle Steve, but
Marjorie only stared, open-eyed, at this nonsense.
"Well, anyway, it's all over now; so bundle your belongings back where they belong and get yourself ready for a drive."
Marjorie flew to obey, but meeting Grandma in the hall, she dropped her dressful of books and toys, and flung herself into Mrs. Sherwood's waiting arms.
"Oh, Grandma!" she cried. "I AM so sorry I slam-banged upstairs, and I'll never do it again, and I had a perfectly awful, DREADFUL time, but of course you had to punish me for your own good,—I mean for my own good,—but now it's all over, and you love me just the same, don't you?"
The ardent embrace in progress left no doubt of the affection still existing between the pair, and if Marjorie's hugs were of the lovingly boisterous variety, Grandma Sherwood appeared quite willing to submit to them.
"I don't know," she thought to herself, after Marjorie had gone for her drive, "whether that child is impervious to discipline or whether she is unusually capable of receiving and assimilating it."
But at any rate, Marjorie never went up or down the front stairs again, except on the occasions when it was distinctly permissible.
The drive with Uncle Steve was a succession of delights. This was partly because it was such a sudden and pleasant change from the abominable staircase and partly because Uncle Steve was such an amiable and entertaining companion.
The two were alone in an old-fashioned, low basket-phaeton; and Uncle Steve was willing to stop whenever Marjorie wished, to note an especially beautiful bird on a neighboring branch or an extra-fine blossom of some wild flower.
Also, Uncle Steve seemed to know the names of all the trees and flowers and birds they chanced to see. Greatly interested in these things, Marjorie learned much nature-lore, and the lessons were but play. Tying the horse to a fence, the two cronies wandered into the wood and found, after much careful search, some Indian Pipes of an exquisite perfection. These fragile, curious things were Marjorie's great delight, and she carried them carefully home for her Memory Book.