She answered her carelessly, which increased the teacher’s uneasiness, and made her ask a little sharply, “What is it, Marion? You did badly in your recitation to-day.”
“Ma’am!” said Marion, looking at her in surprise.
“I said you made a bad recitation,” repeated Miss Ashton. “What has happened?”
Then the color grew deeper and deeper in Marion’s face. “My letter from my mother,” she said, “O Miss Ashton, I am so sorry!”
“Sorry for what? Is any one sick?” 222
“No, Miss Ashton; but—but—there was so much to think of in it. I am so sorry I did badly.”
Now Miss Ashton smiled. “If that is all,” she said, “I will try to forgive you. Can’t you tell me something about your home letter? I like to hear of them.”
Then Marion poured out her whole heart, thanking her kind teacher simply and winningly for her own kind letter to the Western home, but giving no hint of the seed of evil the letter may have sown.