Millicent was self-important.
"The blue ball!" she cried in a climax of rapture.

"I've got THE BLUE BALL." She held it gloating in the cup of her hands.

It was a little globe of hardened glass, of a magnificent full dark blue color.

She rose and went to her father.
"It was your blue ball, wasn't it, father ?" "Yes." "And you had it when you were a little boy, and now I have it when I'm a little girl." "Ay," he replied drily.
"And it's never been broken all those years." "No, not yet." "And perhaps it never will be broken." To this she received no answer.
"Won't it break ?" she persisted.

"Can't you break it ?" "Yes, if you hit it with a hammer," he said.
"Aw!" she cried.