CHAPTER VI.
THE EMPTY BOX.
So the chair was bought and Marty tried to think she was perfectly satisfied, but it was strange how little she cared for it after all. She showed her purchase to her mother, who said it was quite pretty, but not very substantial; that she feared it would not last long.
Marty put it in her dolls' house and played with it, trying hard to enjoy it, but her conscience was so ill at ease that she soon began to hate the sight of the chair, and by Friday evening she had pushed it away back on the shelf behind everything. The sight of the red box, too, was more than she could stand, it seemed to look so reproachfully at her; even after she had laid one of her white aprons over it she disliked to open the drawer.
There was a special meeting of the band that Saturday, as they were getting ready for their anniversary. No contributions were expected, so that it did not matter about Marty having no money; but she was feeling so low-spirited and ashamed that she simply could not go among the others nor take part in missionary exercises.
“Are you going for Edith this afternoon or is she coming for you?” inquired Mrs. Ashford.
“I'm not going to the meeting,” replied Marty in a low voice. “I told Edith I wasn't going.”
“Not going!” exclaimed Mrs. Ashford in surprise. “Why, you are not tired of it already, are you?”