"No, not really. But I do want to be something beside short and stout, with my hair in a knot."
The fun in her eyes did not conceal the vexation.
"Miss Prudence, it's hard to care only for the things God cares about," she said, earnestly.
"Yes, very hard."
"I think you care only for such things. You are not worldly one single bit."
"I do not want to be—one single bit."
"I know you do give up things. But you have so much; you have the best things. I don't want things you have given up. I think God cares for the things you care for."
"I hope he does," said Miss Prudence, gently. "Marjorie, if he has given you a plain face give it back to him to glorify himself with; if a beautiful face, give that back to him to glorify himself with. You are not your own; your face is not yours; it is bought with a price."
Marjorie's face was radiant just then. The love, the surprise, the joy, made it beautiful.
Miss Prudence could not forbear, she drew the beautiful face down to kiss it.