"Yes," assented Marjorie in a full tone. "Aunt Prue, O, Aunt Prue what would I do without you to help me."
"God would find you somebody else; but I'm very glad he found me for you."
"I'm more than glad," said Marjorie, enthusiastically.
"It's a real snow storm," Miss Prudence went to the window, pushed the curtain aside, and looked out.
"It isn't as bad as the night that Morris came to me when I was alone. Mr. Holmes did not come for two days and it was longer than that before father and mother could come. What a grand time we had housekeeping! It is time for the Linnet to be in. I know Morris will come to see us as soon as he can get leave. Linnet will be glad to go to her pretty little home; the boy on the farm is to be there nights, mother said, and Linnet will not mind through the day. Mother Rheid, as Linnet says, will run over every day, and Father Rheid, too, I suspect. They love Linnet."
"Marjorie, if I hadn't had you I believe I should have been content with
Linnet, she is so loving."
"And if you hadn't Prue you would be content with me!" laughed Marjorie, and just then a strong pull at the bell sent it ringing through the house, Marjorie sprang to her feet and Miss Prudence moved towards the door.
"I feel in my bones that it's somebody," cried Marjorie, following her into the hall.
"I don't believe a ghost could give a pull like that," answered Miss
Prudence, turning the big key.
And a ghost certainly never had such laughing blue eyes or such light curls sprinkled with snow and surmounted by a jaunty navy-blue sailor cap, and a ghost never could give such a spring and catch Marjorie in its arms and rub its cold cheeks against her warm ones.