“But I’m perfectly well,” declared the older lady; “and a thing like this doesn’t happen without some reason; and there’s no reason for it, except some great mental disturbance, and I’ve had nothing of that sort except the visit of these children!  Ed, you’ll have to take them away.”

“I think I shall have to,” said Mr. Maynard, gravely.  It was a great trial to him that his parents could not look more leniently upon his children.  He had rarely brought them to visit their grandparents, because it always made his mother nervous and irritable.  But it was too absurd to think that such nervousness and irritation could cause her brown hair to turn almost white, a proceeding which he had always thought was a mere figure of speech anyway.

Breakfast proceeded in an uncomfortable silence.  It was useless to try to console Grandma Maynard, or to make her think that the gray hair was becoming to her.  Indeed, everything that was said only made her more disconsolate about the fate which had overtaken her, and more annoyed at the children, whom she considered to blame.

At last, sharp-eyed, practical Kitty volunteered the solution.  She had sat for some time watching her grandmother, and at last she felt sure that she saw grains of powder fall from the gray hair to the shoulder of Grandma’s gown.  When she was fully convinced that this was the case, she looked straight at the victim of misfortune and said, “Grandma, I think you are playing a trick on us.  I think you have powdered your hair, and you are only pretending it has turned gray.”

“What do you mean, Kitty, child?” said her father, in amazement, for it almost seemed as if Kitty were rebuking her grandmother.

“Why, just look, Father!  There is powder shaking down on Grandma’s shoulder.”

“Nonsense!” cried Grandma, angrily.  “I’d be likely to do a thing like that, wouldn’t I, Miss Kitty?  And indeed, if it were powder, and could be brushed out, and leave my hair its natural color, I should be only too grateful!”

This was Marjorie’s chance.  She loved to make a sensation, and laying down her knife and fork, she said, quietly, “Kitty is right, Grandma; it is nothing but powder, and I put it there myself.”

“What!” exclaimed Grandma.  “Do you mean to say, Marjorie, that you powdered my hair?  How did you do it?  Oh, child, if you are telling me the truth, if it is really only powder, I shall be so relieved that I will make you a handsome present!”

This was a new turn of affairs, indeed!  Marjorie had had misgivings as to the results of her practical joke, but it had seemed to her merely a harmless jest, and she had hoped that it might be taken lightly.  But when Grandma expressed such consternation at her whitened hair, Marjorie had been shaking in her shoes, lest she should be punished, rather than laughed at for her trick.  And now to be offered a beautiful present was astonishing, truly!  The ways of grownups were surely not to be counted upon!