For some reason, as Marjorie looked at the pillow, there flashed across her mind what Grandma had said about her hair turning white in a single night, and acting on a sudden impulse, Marjorie shook powder from the silver box all over Grandma’s pillow.  Then chuckling to herself, she replaced the powder-box on the dressing table, and went to her own room.

CHAPTER XIV

A MERRY JOKE

The next morning, while Marjorie was dressing, she heard a great commotion in the halls.  Peeping out her door she saw maids running hither and thither with anxious, worried faces.  She heard her grandmother’s voice in troubled accents, and Grandfather seemed to be trying to soothe her.

Naughty Marjorie well knew what it was all about, and chuckled with glee as she finished dressing, and went down to breakfast.

She found the family assembled in the breakfast room, and Grandma Maynard telling the story.  “Yes,” she said, “I knew perfectly well that to have these children in the house, with their noise and racket, would so get on my nerves that it would turn my hair white, and it has done so!”

Marjorie looked at Grandma Maynard’s hair, and though not entirely white, it was evenly gray all over.  As she had laid her head on her plentifully-powdered pillow, and perhaps restlessly moved it about, the powder had distributed itself pretty evenly, and the result was a head of gray hair instead of the rich brown tresses of the night before.

Her son and daughter-in-law could not believe that this effect was caused by the disturbance made by their own children; but far less did they suspect the truth of the matter.  Whatever opinions the various members of the family held as to the cause of the phenomenon, not one of them suspected Marjorie’s hand in the matter.

As for Midget herself, she was convulsed with glee, although she did not show it.  Never had she played a joke which had turned out so amazingly well, and the very fact that neither Kitty nor King knew anything about it lessened the danger of detection.

“It seems incredible,” Grandma went on, “that this thing should really happen to me, for I’ve so often feared it might; and then to think it should come because the visit of my own grandchildren was so upsetting to my nerves!”

“Nonsense, Mother,” said her son, “it couldn’t have been that!  It isn’t possible that the children, no matter how much they carried on, would have any such effect as that!”

“You may say so, Ed; but look at the effect, and then judge for yourself; what is your explanation of this disaster that has come to me?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure, Mother,—­but it couldn’t be what you suggest.  I’ve heard of such an accident happening to people, but I never believed it before.  Now I’m forced to admit it must be true.  What do you think, Helen?”

Mrs. Maynard looked thoughtful.  “I don’t know,” she said slowly, “but it must be the symptom of some disease or illness that has suddenly attacked Mother Maynard.”