"Well, then, a chapter of Walter Scott, that will rest you."
"No, it won't; I wouldn't understand a word."
"'The Minister's Wooing' then; you admire Mrs. Stowe so greatly."
"I don't admire her to-night, I'm afraid. Aunt Prue, even a startling ring at the door bell will not wake me up."
"Suppose I play for you," suggested Miss Prudence, gravely.
"I thought you wanted me to go to bed," said Marjorie, suppressing her annoyance as well as she could.
"Just see, child; you are too worn out for all and any of these things that you usually take pleasure in, and yet you take up the Bible and expect to feel devotional and be greatly edified, even to find that Malachi has a special message for you. And you berate yourself for hardheartedness and coldheartedness. When you are so weary, don't you see that your brain refuses to think?"
"Do you mean that I ought to read only one verse and think that enough?
Oh, if I might."
"Have you taken more time than that would require for other things to-day?"
"Why, yes," said Marjorie, looking surprised.