"Not a word. He considers you suffering from extreme poverty, and quite worries himself over the time you lose during your visits to us. If you press me to tell you the whole truth, he is anxious lest your love for dress and jewels should involve you in serious pecuniary embarrassment. He considers that rich silk and point-lace collar, though extremely becoming, quite beyond your means."
"Nonsense! Now do be serious. I don't want anybody to know, and especially strangers like Mr. Angus, that—"
"You can, if you choose buy up half our congregation, to say nothing of the poor minister. No, I won't tell him that."
"Don't tease the child, pa," put in Mrs. Asbury, though laughing herself.
"It is from the clergyman especially you wish this important information kept," questioned the gentleman, his eye twinkling.
Marion looked really annoyed. "I see I must explain," she began. "There are some poor people I am going to help. He offered, from his salary, I suppose, to pay Mary's expenses to the city, etc. I told him a friend would supply the means, and I don't wish him to think I am the one."
"On the principle of the left hand hiding from the right, I suppose. Yes, I see." With a mischievous glance, he turned to his newspaper, and Marion, informing her aunt that she intended to make a call on a sick lady in the morning, and had postponed her return till afternoon, bade them good-night and retired to her chamber.
Passing Ethel's room, she found to her surprise that the child was still awake.
"Please come in a minute, Marion: I must get up again. I can't remember whether I have said my prayers. I feel prayers in here," putting her hand to her breast, "and I can't go to sleep."
"Well, darling, get up, and I'll kneel with you."