While Marjorie put on the extra plates and cut a few more slices of sponge cake, Linnet went to the front door, and stood waiting for them.
Through the open kitchen door Marjorie heard her ask, "Is anything the matter?"
"Hush! Where's Marjorie?" asked Hollis' voice.
Was it her trouble? Was it Miss Prudence? Or Prue—it could not be her father and mother; she had seen them at church. Morris! Morris! Had they not just heard from Will? He went away, and she was not kind to him.
Who was saying "dead"? Was somebody dead?
She was trembling so that she would have fallen had she not caught at the back of a chair for support. There was a buzzing in her ears; she was sinking down, sinking down. Linnet was clinging to her, or holding her up. Linnet must be comforted.
"Is somebody—dead?" she asked, her dry lips parting with an effort.
"Yes, dear; it's Morris," said Mrs. Rheid. "Lay her down flat, Linnet.
It's the shock? Hollis, bring some water."
"Oh, no, no," shivered Marjorie, "don't touch me. What shall I say to his mother? His mother hasn't any one else to care for her. Where is he? Won't somebody tell me all about it?"
"Oh, dear; I can't," sobbed Mrs. Rheid.