Marigold tried to cease crying; she buried her face in the soft, downy pillow, and finally succeeded in stopping her sobs. Then she prayed to God to take care of her dear ones, and to help her to do what was right in His sight, till at length a feeling of comfort and peace stole over her aching heart, and she fell into a sweet, dreamless sleep.
[CHAPTER IV]
MARIGOLD'S FIRST DAYS IN HER AUNTS' HOME
MARIGOLD awoke early on the first morning after her arrival at her new home. The bright April sun was shining into her bedroom window from a cloudless blue sky. It was indeed a perfect morning. The little girl jumped out of bed, and drawing up the blind to its fullest height, threw open the window, and stood for a minute or two inhaling the delicate scent of primroses and hyacinths from the garden below. Then she proceeded quickly to dress, wondering what time it was, for she had no watch, and she was fearful lest she should be late for the eight o'clock breakfast. When she was fully dressed she knelt down and said her prayers, asking God's blessing on her new life, and afterwards sat by the open window to read her daily portion from her father's Bible. Downstairs she could hear movements in the house, and presently there was a step outside her bedroom door, followed by a knock on the door itself.
"Come in," said Marigold.
The door opened, and Miss Pamela entered. She looked surprised at the sight of her niece already fully dressed. Marigold put down her Bible on the writing-table, and advancing to her aunt held up her face for a kiss.
"You are up in good time," Miss Pamela remarked, as she lightly touched Marigold's cheek with her lips. "Are you usually such an early riser?"
"Yes, Aunt Pamela, I always got up when mother did at home, to dust the sitting-room whilst she cooked the breakfast. But I could not guess the time this morning, and I was afraid of being late."
"I understand. It is now only half-past seven. I came to see if you were awake, and instead I find you up and reading."
Miss Pamela glanced at the Bible on the writing-table, recollection in her look. She took it up after a moment's hesitation, and opening it turned to the flyleaf. After a short silence she said—