Part 43 (1/2)

”It certainly is. I tried to give my blind, tired hours to G.o.d and found that he did not accept--for I had no blessing in reading; I excused myself on your plea, I was too weary, and then I learned to give him my best and freshest time.”

There was no weariness or frettedness in Marjorie's face now; the heart rest was giving her physical rest. ”I will begin to-morrow night--I can't begin to-night--and read the first thing as you do. I am almost through the Old Testament; how I shall enjoy beginning the New! Miss Prudence, is it so about praying, too?”

”What do you think?”

”I know it is. And that is why my prayers do not comfort me, sometimes. I mean, the short prayers do; but I do want to pray about so many things, and I am really too tired when I go to bed, sometimes I fall asleep when I am not half through. Mother used to tell Linnet and me that we oughtn't to talk after we said our prayers, so we used to talk first and put our prayers off until the last thing, and sometimes we were so sleepy we hardly knew what we were saying.”

”This plan of early reading and praying does not interfere with prayer at bedtime, you know; as soon as my head touches the pillow I begin to pray, I think I always fall asleep praying, and my first thought in the morning is prayer. My dear, our best and freshest, not our lame and blind, belong to G.o.d.”

”Yes,” a.s.sented Marjorie in a full tone. ”Aunt Prue, O, Aunt Prue what would I do without you to help me.”

”G.o.d would find you somebody else; but I'm very glad he found me for you.”

”I'm more than glad,” said Marjorie, enthusiastically.

”It's a real snow storm,” Miss Prudence went to the window, pushed the curtain aside, and looked out.

”It isn't as bad as the night that Morris came to me when I was alone.

Mr. Holmes did not come for two days and it was longer than that before father and mother could come. What a grand time we had housekeeping! It is time for the _Linnet_ to be in. I know Morris will come to see us as soon as he can get leave. Linnet will be glad to go to her pretty little home; the boy on the farm is to be there nights, mother said, and Linnet will not mind through the day. Mother Rheid, as Linnet says, will run over every day, and Father Rheid, too, I suspect. They _love_ Linnet.”

”Marjorie, if I hadn't had you I believe I should have been content with Linnet, she is so loving.”

”And if you hadn't Prue you would be content with me!” laughed Marjorie, and just then a strong pull at the bell sent it ringing through the house, Marjorie sprang to her feet and Miss Prudence moved towards the door.

”I feel in my bones that it's somebody,” cried Marjorie, following her into the hall.

”I don't believe a ghost could give a pull like that,” answered Miss Prudence, turning the big key.

And a ghost certainly never had such laughing blue eyes or such light curls sprinkled with snow and surmounted by a jaunty navy-blue sailor cap, and a ghost never could give such a spring and catch Marjorie in its arms and rub its cold cheeks against her warm ones.

”O, Morris,” Marjorie cried, ”it's like that other night when you came in the snow! Only I'm not frightened and alone now. This is such a surprise!

Such a splendid surprise.”

Marjorie was never shy with Morris, her ”twin-brother” as she used to call him.

But the next instant she was escaping out of his arms and fleeing back to the fire. Miss Prudence and Morris followed more decorously.

”Now tell us all about it,” Marjorie cried, stepping about upon the rug and on the carpet. ”And where is Linnet? And when did you get in? And where's Will? And why didn't Linnet come with you?”

”Because I didn't want to be overshadowed; I wanted a welcome all my own.

And Linnet is at home under her mother's sheltering wing--as I ought to be under my mother's, instead of being here under yours. Will is on board the _Linnet_, another place where I ought to be this minute; and we arrived day before yesterday in New York, where we expect to load for Liverpool, I took the captain's wife home, and then got away from Mother West on the plea that I must see my own mother as soon as time and tide permitted; but to my consternation I found every train stopped at the foot of Maple Street, so I had to stop, instead of going through as I wanted to.”

”That is a pity,” said Marjorie; ”but we'll send you off to your mother to-morrow. Now begin at the beginning and tell me everything that you and Linnet didn't write about.”

”But, first--a moment, Marjorie. Has our traveller had his supper?”

interposed Miss Prudence.

”Yes, thank you, I had supper, a very early one, with Linnet and Mother West; Father West had gone to mill, and didn't we turn the house upside down when he came into the kitchen and found us. Mother West kept wiping her eyes and Linnet put her arms around her father's neck and really cried! She said she knew she wasn't behaving 'marriedly,' but she was so glad she couldn't help it.”