"Oh, I wish you would read a few verses from the Bible every day, like I do. I have my father's Bible for my own now, and—"
Marigold paused abruptly, wondering if on the morrow she would have cause to regret that she had not kept her companion more at a distance, instead of having touched upon a subject that was very near her heart. Perhaps Muriel guessed her thoughts, for she said quickly—
"Go on. What were you going to say? I promise I won't repeat it like I did before."
Thus encouraged, Marigold told how she had become possessed of her father's Bible, and what his motto had been. Muriel listened attentively, her face full of interest.
"'Fight the good fight of faith,'" she repeated thoughtfully. "And that is what you are trying to do, Marigold? I don't believe it would be the least good my trying, although I rather like the idea. I'll think it over. Do you know you and Grace Long are very much alike?"
"Oh, do you really think so?" Marigold questioned eagerly, her eyes brightening with pleasure, for she had a very sincere admiration for Grace.
"Yes. Not in appearance, but in the way you think about things. Grace is good-natured, and so are you. She must have a dull time of it always at school; but she seems happy enough. Sometimes I envy her, for I'm never very happy myself," Muriel confessed, a little dejectedly.
Marigold's aunts both looked greatly surprised when the little girl informed them that she had walked home from school with Muriel Wake; but their astonishment was profounder still when, a few days later, she asked permission to invite Muriel to tea on the following Saturday.
"Why, Marigold! That disagreeable child who served you so unkindly!" Miss Holcroft exclaimed.
"Yes, I know, Aunt Mary. I think Muriel is really sorry about that, and these last few days we have become much more friendly. I have not said anything to her about asking her here, so if you would rather not—"