Part 44 (1/2)
How that tiny box burned in his pocket! Should he toss it away, that circlet of gold with _Semper fidelis_ engraved within it? How he used to write on his slate: ”Morris Kemlo, _Semper fidelis_” and she had never once scorned it, but had written her own name with the same motto beneath it. But she had given it a higher significance than he had given it; she had never once thought of it in connection with any human love.
”How often do you write to Hollis?” he inquired at last.
”I do not write to him at all,” she answered.
”Why not? Has something happened?” he said, eagerly.
”I suppose so.”
”Don't you want to tell me? Does it trouble you?”
”Yes, I want to tell you, I do not think that it troubles me now. He has never--answered my last letter.”
”Did you quarrel with him?”
”Oh, no. I may have displeased him, but I have no idea how I did it.”
She spoke very easily, not flus.h.i.+ng at all, meeting his eyes frankly; she was concealing nothing, there was nothing to be concealed. Marjorie was a little girl still. Was he glad or sorry? Would he find her grown up when he came back next time?
”Do you like school as well as you thought you would?” he asked, with a change of tone.
He would not be ”nonsensical” any longer.
”Better! A great deal better,” she said, enthusiastically.
”What are you getting ready for?”
”_Semper fiddelis_. Don't you remember our motto? I am getting ready to be always faithful. There's so much to be faithful in, Morris. I am learning new things every day.”
He had no reply at hand. How that innocent ring burned in his pocket! And he had thought she would accept that motto from him.
”I am not the first fellow that has gone through this,” he comforted himself grimly. ”I will not throw it overboard; she will listen next time.”
Next time? Ah, poor Morris, if you had known about next time, would you have spoken to-night?
”Marjorie, I have something for you, but I would rather not give it to you to-night,” he said with some confusion.
”Well,” she said, quietly, ”I can wait.”
”Do you _want_ to wait.”
”Yes. I think I do,” she answered deliberately.
Miss Prudence's step was at the front parlor door.
”You young folks are not observing the clock, I see. Marjorie must study astronomy by starlight to-morrow morning, and I am going to send you upstairs, Morris. But first, shall we have family wors.h.i.+p, together? I like to have a priest in my house when I can.”
She laid Marjorie's Bible in his hand as she spoke. He read a short Psalm, and then they knelt together. He had grown; Marjorie felt it in every word of the simple heartfelt prayer. He prayed like one at home with G.o.d. One pet.i.tion she long remembered: ”Lord, when thou takest anything away from us, fill us the more with thyself.”