“A concordance! What in the world do you want with this? Are you going to study theology?”
“No,” replied Mrs. Ashford, laughing, “but Marty comes to me with so many questions that I found I could not get on any longer without that.”
“What's a concordance, mamma?” asked Marty, “and has it anything to do with me?”
“It is a book to help us find all those verses in the Bible you have been asking me about. You see I'm not as good and wise as your friend Mrs. Howell, and don't know as much about the Bible as she does.”
“You're every bit as good,” declared Marty, who by this time had got both arms around her mother's waist as she stood on the rug, and was looking up in her face lovingly, “and you will be as wise when you are as old, for she is a great deal older than you.”
Her father and mother both laughed at Marty's earnestness, and Mr. Ashford said,
“That's right, Marty. Stand up for your mother.”
They found the concordance very useful, and from time to time spent many happy hours searching the Scriptures with its aid, comparing passages and talking them over. Not only did they find texts for the band, but other subjects were traced through the sacred pages. Occasionally Marty saw her mother busy with the concordance and Bible when she had not asked her assistance about verses.
It was while Marty was giving wholes instead of tenths and the red box was so well filled, that it met with an accident that disfigured it for life. Though the occurrence was a sad and humiliating one for Marty, it led to good results.
She had the box out one day and was counting the money, although she knew precisely how much there was. As a good deal of it was in pennies it made quite a noise, so that Freddie, attracted by the bright outside and noisy inside, thought he would like to have the box to play with. He asked Marty to give it to him, but she, busy with her counting, answered rather sharply,