"Does she know?" asked Marjorie, springing up to greet Miss Prudence.
"Yes; she is very quiet, I have prayed with her twice; and we have talked about his life and his death. She says that it was unselfish to the end."
"He sent his love to her; did Hollis tell you?"
"I read the letter—I read it twice. She holds it in her hand now."
"Has the tall man gone?" asked Prue.
"Yes, he did not stay long. Marjorie, you did not bid him good-night."
"I know it; I did not think."
"Marjorie, dear;" Miss Prudence opened her arms, and Marjorie crept into them.
"Oh, Aunt Prue, I would not be so troubled, but he wanted to give me something—some little thing he had brought me—because he always did remember me, and I would not even look at it. I don't know what it was. I refused it; and I know he was so hurt. I was almost tempted to take it when I saw his eyes; and then I wanted to be true."
"Were you true?"