“I think he is quite the nicest young man I ever saw,” said Dollie, candidly. “Don’t you think so, yourself? Now be honest, Marion.”
“He is very nice,” said Marion, quietly, “but I’m almost afraid he is a little wild, not a bit like Mr. Ray who is so steady and settled.”
“Pooh,” said Dollie, laughing. “I’m glad he is a little gay. I’d awfully hate to have a pokey man around. I’d rather they’d be wild so long as they are not wicked.”
“Well, we won’t quarrel about them,” said Marion, smiling. “We have something else to do besides worrying about lovers.”
“But we will both have lovers some day I hope,” said Dollie, sighing. “This world would be a dreadfully dull old place if it wasn’t for the sweetness of love and lovers.”
“You have Silas Johnson,” she said, a little mischievously. “Do you know I can’t understand Silas yet, little sister. I feel that there is something else besides the mortgage that is worrying Silas.”
“I was surprised that he should ask me to marry him,” said Dollie, sadly. “Men like father and Silas are always unforgiving where women are concerned.”
Marion looked at her tenderly. “Never mind about them, little sister,” she said very softly. “There is sadness and sorrow enough, Heaven knows. I only hope that we may some day find some one to love and to love us.”
As she spoke Marion put her arms around Dollie’s waist and laid her head a trifle wearily on the plump, white shoulder.
It was a pretty picture of sisterly devotion, which only their guardian angels witnessed. They were alone in New York, without money or friends, except one poor girl whose heart was bigger than her purse, but who divided with them her every penny gladly.