"I'll never do it again, Mother." "Do it again? Well, I rather think you won't! I shall never leave you alone again. I felt all the time I oughtn't to go off and leave you children last night." "Nonsense, my dear," said Mr. Maynard, "the children must be taught self-reliance. But we'll talk this matter over some other time. Marjorie, you'll be late to school if you're not careful. And listen to me, my child. I don't want you to tell any one of what you did last evening. It is something that it is better to keep quiet about. Do you understand? This is a positive command. Don't ask me why, just promise to say nothing about it to your playmates or any one. No one knows of it at present, but your mother, Kingdon, and myself. I prefer that no one else should know. Will you remember this?" "Yes, Father; can't I just tell Gladys?" Mr. Maynard smiled. "Marjorie, you are impossible!" he said. "Now, listen! I said tell _no one_! Is Gladys any one?" "Yes, Father, she is." "Very well, then don't tell her. Tell no one at all. Promise me." "I promise," said Midget, earnestly, and then she kissed her parents and ran away to school. Kingdon had also been bidden not to tell of Marjorie's escapade, and so it was never heard of outside the family. When it was time for the spelling-match, Marjorie put away her books, and sat waiting, with folded arms and a smiling face. Miss Lawrence was surprised, for the child usually was worried and anxious in spelling class. Two captains were chosen, and these two selected the pupils, one by one, to be their aids. Marjorie was never chosen until toward the last, for though everybody loved her, yet her inability to spell was known by all, and she was not a desirable assistant in a match. But at last her name was called, and she demurely took her place near the foot of the line on one side. Gladys was on the other side, near the head. She was a good speller, and rarely made a mistake. Miss Lawrence began to give out the words, and the children spelled away blithely. Now and then one would miss and another would go above. To everybody's surprise, Marjorie began to work her way up toward the head of her line. She spelled correctly words that the others missed, and with a happy smile went along up the line. At last the "spelling down" began. This meant that whoever missed a word must go to his seat, leaving only those standing who did not miss any word. One by one the crestfallen unsuccessful ones went to their seats, and, to the amazement of all, Marjorie remained standing. At last, there were but six left in the match. "Macaroni," said Miss Lawrence. "M-a-c-c-a-r-o-n-i," said Jack Norton, and regretfully Miss Lawrence told him he must sit down. Three more spelled the word wrongly, and then it was Marjorie's turn: "M-a-c-a-r-o-n-i," said she, triumphantly, remembering her father's remark that there were no double letters in it.