The amazing fact that
she was eating the acid drops secretly came into her mind and she sat
trying to reason it out for some minutes.
"Mean thing--she doesn't want me to have any," was her first thought
which she dismissed a moment later as she remembered certain very
distinct occasions when her aunt had been anything but mean, times when
she had deliberately stayed away from a scanty meal that the others
should have more--little sacrifices that Marcella was only just
beginning to understand.
"I don't believe she's mean--anyway, I _know_ she isn't. I believe she
doesn't have half enough to eat and these sweets make up for it! Or
else--she likes sweets frightfully and doesn't want me to know she's
so--so kiddish."
Quick tears had sprung into Marcella's eyes, tears of pity and of
impotence as she wondered what on earth she could do for Aunt Janet.
After a while, when she was quite sure the acid drop was swallowed, and
no other had taken its place, she knelt down on the hearth and, after a
minute, shyly drew herself over to her aunt's side.
"Aunt Janet," she said, taking one of the thin blue-veined hands in
hers, "Auntie--"
"What is it, Marcella?"
"I--I don't know. Oh, Aunt Janet, I do wish there was something I could
do for you."
"Marcella!" cried her aunt, almost shocked.
"Oh dear, you make me cry, Aunt Janet, to see you sitting here so lonely
and so still.
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