Part 32 (1/2)

”Are you sure of me, now?” he laughed, like the old Hollis who used to go to school.

After that Marjorie would not have been surprised if he had called her ”Mousie.”

”Morris, what do you want to be a sailor for?” inquired Hollis, arranging the white rose in his b.u.t.ton-hole anew.

”To sail,” answered Morris seriously. ”What do you want to be a salesman for?”

”To sell,” said Hollis, as seriously, ”Marjorie, what do you want to be yourself for?”

”To help you to be yourself,” she answered promptly, and flew to the front door where there was a sound of shouting and laughter. They were all there, every one of the little home-made company; and the waiters ushered them into the kitchen, where the feast was spread, with great ceremony.

If Linnet had not been somebody's wife she would have danced around and clapped her hands with delight; as it was she nearly forgot her dignity, and exclaimed with surprise and pleasure sufficient to satisfy those who were in the secret of the feast.

Linnet was in her gray travelling suit, but the dash of crimson this time was in both cheeks; there was a haziness in her eyes that subdued the brightness of her face and touched them all. The bridegroom was handsome and proud, his own merry self, not a trifle abashed before them all on his wedding day, everything that he said seemed to be thought worth laughing at, and there was not a shadow on any face, except the flitting of a shadow ever and anon across Morris Kemlo's blue eyes.

The feast was ended, prayer offered by the pastor and the new home dedicated to him who is the Father in every home where his children dwell, and then kisses and congratulations and thanks mingled with the tears that the mothers must need shed out of their joy and natural regret. The mothers were both exultantly proud and sure that _her_ child would not be the one to make the other unhappy. The carriages rolled away, Will and Linnet to take the train to Portland, for if the wind were fair the _Linnet_ would sail the next day for New York and thence to Genoa. Linnet had promised to bring Marjorie some of the plastering of the chamber in which Christopher Columbus was born, and if they went down to Naples she would surely climb Mt. Vesuvius and bring her a branch of mulberry.

The mothers remained to wash the dishes and pack things away, to lock up the house, and brush the last flake of dust from any of Linnet's new possessions; Captain Rheid called to Hollis and asked him to walk over the farm with him and see where everything was planted. Hollis was to remain over night, but Morris was to take a late train to join the _Linnet's_ crew, it being his first voyage as second mate.

The mothers took off their kitchen ap.r.o.ns, washed their hands at Linnet's new sink, and gave Morris the key of the front door to hang up in an out-of-the-way corner of the wood shed.

”It may better be here,” said Mrs. Rheid, ”and then any of us can get in at any time to see how things are without troubling anybody to find the key. The captain will see that every door and window is safe and as we have the silver I don't believe anybody will think of troubling the house.”

”Oh, dear no,” replied Mrs. West. ”I always leave my clothes out on the line and we never think of locking a door at night.”

”Our kitchen windows look over this way and I shall always be looking over. Now come home with me and see that quilt I haven't got finished yet for them. I told your husband to come to our house for you, for you would surely be there. I suppose Marjorie and Morris will walk back; we wouldn't have minded it, either, on our eighteenth birthday.”

”Come, Marjorie, come see where I hang the key,” said Morris.

Marjorie followed him down the kitchen steps, across the shed to a corner at the farther end; he found a nail and slipped it on and then asked her to reach it.

Even standing on tip toe her upstretched hand could not touch it.

”See how I put the key of my heart out of your reach,” he said, seriously.

”And see how I stretch after it,” she returned, demurely.

”I will come with you and reach it for you.”

”How can you when you are demolis.h.i.+ng plaster in Christopher Columbus'

house or falling into the crater of Mt. Vesuvius? I may want to come here that very day.”

”True; I will put it lower for you. Shall I put it under this stone so that you will have to stoop for it?”

”Mrs. Rheid said hang it over the window, that has been its place for generations. They lived here when they were first married, before they built their own house; the house doesn't look like it, does it? It is all made over new. I am glad he gave it to Will.”

”He can build a house for Hollis,” said he, watching her as he spoke.

”Let me see you put the key there,” she returned, unconcernedly.