stairs are uncomfortable at best to sit on, and the silence and
loneliness were so oppressive, that her efforts successively
failed.

And, though Marjorie did not realize it, her spirits were
depressed because of the mere fact that she was undergoing
punishment. Had she been there of her own free choice she could
have played happily on the stairs all day long; or had the
opportunity been bestowed upon her, as a great and special treat,
the hours would have flown by.

At last, exhausted, Nature conquered all else, and, seated on one
step, Marjorie folded her arms on the step above, laid her head
down upon them, and went to sleep.

And it was thus that Uncle Steve found her when he came home at
four o'clock.

"Hello, Queen of Mischief!" he cried, gayly. "Wake up here and
tell me all about it!"

"Oh, Uncle Steve!" cried Marjorie, waking, flushed from her nap,
and delighted at having some one to speak to; "do you know why I'm
here? Did Grandma tell you?"

"Yes, she told me; and she told me something else, too. She says
that if you are properly sorry for what you did,--really, AWFULLY
sorry, you know,--that you may be excused for the rest of the day
and may go out driving with me."