Part 15 (1/2)
”I'll promise twenty.”
”Two will do until next time. First, will you go and see my mother as soon as you get well, and go often?”
”That's too easy; I want to do something _hard_ for you,” she answered earnestly.
”Perhaps you will some day, who knows? There are hard enough things to do for people, I'm finding out. But, have you promised?”
”Yes, I have promised.”
”And I know you keep your promises. I'm sure you won't forget. Poor mother isn't happy; she's troubled.”
”About you?”
”No, about herself, because she isn't a Christian.”
”That's enough to trouble anybody,” said Marjorie, wisely.
”Now, one more promise in payment. Will you write to me every two weeks?”
”Oh, I couldn't,” pleaded Marjorie.
”Now you've found something too hard to do for me,” he said, reproachfully.
”Oh, I'll do it, of course; but I'm afraid.”
”You'll soon get over that. You see mother doesn't write often, and father never does, and I'm often anxious about them, and if you write and tell me about them twice a month I shall be happier. You see you are doing something for me.”
”Yes, thank you. I'll do the best I can. But I can't write like your cousin Helen,” she added, jealously.
”No matter. You'll do; and you will be growing older and constantly improving and I shall begin to travel for the house by and by and my letters will be as entertaining as a book of travels.”
”Will you write to me? I didn't think of that.”
”Goosie!” he laughed, giving her Linnet's pet name. ”Certainly I will write as often as you do, and you mustn't stop writing until your last letter has not been answered for a month.”
”I'll remember,” said Marjorie, seriously. ”But I wish I could do something else. Did you have to pay money for it?”
Marjorie was accustomed to ”bartering” and that is the reason that she used the expression ”pay money.”
”Well, yes, something,” he replied, pressing his lips together.
He was angry with the shoemaker about that bargain yet.
”How much? I want to pay you.”
”Ladies never ask a gentleman such a question when they make them a present,” he said, laughing as he arose. ”Imagine Helen asking me how much I paid for the set of books I gave her on her birthday.”
The tears sprang to Marjorie's eyes. Had she done a dreadful thing that Helen would not think of doing?
Long afterward she learned that he gave for the plate the ten dollars that his father gave him for a ”vacation present.”