On the day referred to Abby had been
rehearsing with Marion, and thus it happened that they walked part of
the way home together. Marion stopped at a florist's stand and bought
a little bunch of arbutus.
"Here, put this on your altar," she said, giving it to Abby. She had
heard all about the oratory.
When the little girl reached the house Larry had not yet come in, and
the flowers had not been renewed that day.
"I'll surprise him," she said to herself. "How pleased he will be to
see this nice little bouquet!"
She took the vase, threw away the withered violets it contained,
replaced them with the May-flowers, and put it back. But, alas! being
taken up with admiring the delicate pink arbutus, and inhaling its
fragrance, she did not notice that she had set the vase in an unsteady
position. The next moment it tipped over, fell to the floor, and lay
shattered at the foot of the altar. Abby stood and gazed at it
hopelessly, too distressed even to gather up the fragments.
"Oh, what will Larry say!" she cried, wringing her hands. "He thought
so much of that vase! What shall I do?"
While she was thus lamenting she heard Larry's voice.
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