“Isn’t it gay?” cried Molly, and exhilarated by the lofty height, the novel position, and the excitement of the moment, Marjorie thought it was.
“Now,” went on Molly, by way of instruction, “sit down beside me right here at the top. Hang on with your hands until I count three and then let go, and we’ll slide straight down the roof.”
Marjorie obeyed directions, and sat waiting with a delightful feeling of expectancy.
“One, two, three!” counted Molly, and at the last word the two girls let go their grasp and slid.
Swiftly and lightly the slender little Molly slid to the gutter of the eaves of the roof, caught by her heels, and stopped suddenly, leaning against the slanted roof, comfortably at her ease.
Not so Marjorie. She came swiftly down, and, all unaccustomed to motion of this sort, her feet struck the gutter, her solid little body bounced up into the air, and instead of falling backward again, she gave a frightened convulsive movement, and fell headlong to the ground.
Quick as a flash, Molly, when she saw what had happened, scrambled back up the roof with a wonderful agility, and let herself down through the skylight, and down the ladder like lightning. She rushed out of the barn, to where Marjorie lay, and reached her before Carter did, though he came running at the first sounds of Marjorie’s screams.
“I’m not hurt much,” said Marjorie, trying to be brave; “if you’ll help me, Carter, I think I can walk to the house.”
“Walk nothin’,” growled Carter; “it’s Miss Mischief you are for sure! I thought you had outgrown your wild ways, but you’re just as bad as ever! What’ll your grandma say?”
Molly stood by, decidedly scared. She didn’t know how badly Marjorie was hurt, and she longed to comfort her, and tell her how sorry she was that she had urged her to this mischief, but Carter gave her no opportunity to speak. Indeed, it was all she could do to keep up with the gardener’s long strides, as he carried Marjorie to the house. But Molly was no coward, and she bravely determined to go to the house with them, and confess to Mrs. Sherwood that she was to blame for the accident.
But when they reached the door, and Grandma Sherwood came out to meet them, she was so anxious and worried about Marjorie that she paid little attention to Molly’s efforts at explanation.
“What are you trying to say, child?” she asked hastily of Molly, who was stammering out an incoherent speech. “Well, never mind; whatever you have to say, I don’t want to hear it now. You run right straight home; and if you want to come over to-morrow to see how Marjorie is, you may, but I can’t have you bothering around here now. So run home.”
And Molly ran home.
A PAPER-DOLL HOUSE
The result of Marjorie’s fall from the roof was a sprained ankle. It wasn’t a bad sprain, but the doctor said she must stay in bed for several days.