"Isn't it warm?" said Molly. "I 'most wish I'd worn a hat, it's so
sunny."

"I hate a hat," said Marjorie, "but I'll tell you what, Molly, if
we had my red parasol we could hold it over our heads."

"Just the thing, Mopsy; do skip back and get it. I'll hold your
basket, and Carter isn't here yet."

Marjorie ran back as fast as she could, pattering along the muddy
path and thinking only of the red parasol, bounded in at the front
door and up the Front Stairs!

Grandma was in the upper hall, and her heart sank as she saw the
child, thoughtlessly unconscious of wrongdoing, clatter up the
stairs, her heavy boots splashing mud and wet on every polished
step.

Her heart sank, not so much because of the mud on the steps as
because of this new proof of Marjorie's thoughtlessness.

"My dear little girl!" she said, as Marjorie reached the top step,
and in a flash Marjorie realized what she had done.

Crestfallen and horrified, she threw herself into her
grandmother's arms.

"I'm sorry, Midget dear, but I cannot break my word. You know what
I told you."