TIDINGS.
"He giveth his beloved sleep."
Sunday in the twilight Linnet and Marjorie were alone in Linnet's little kitchen. Linnet was bending over the stove stirring the chocolate, and Marjorie was setting the table for two.
"Linnet!" she exclaimed, "it's like playing house."
"I feel very much in earnest."
"So do I. That chocolate makes me feel so. Have you had time to watch the light over the fields? Or is it too poor a sight after gazing at the sunset on the ocean?"
"Marjorie!" she said, turning around to face her, and leaving the spoon idle in the steaming pot, "do you know, I think there's something the matter?"
"Something the matter? Where?"
"I don't know where. I was wondering this afternoon if people always had a presentiment when trouble was coming."
"Did you ever have any trouble?" asked Marjorie seriously.