"Mother, I was in fun and you are making serious," cried Linnet with a distressed face.
"Not making it dreadful, only serious," smiled her mother.
"I don't see why the letter has to be about your husband," argued
Marjorie, "lots of things will happen to us first"
"But that is exciting," said Linnet, "and it is the most of things in story-books."
"I don't see why," continued Marjorie, unconvinced, turning an apple around in her fingers, "isn't the other part of the story worth anything?"
"Worth anything!" repeated Linnet, puzzled.
"Doesn't God care for the other part?" questioned the child. "I've got to have a good deal of the other part."
"So have all unmarried people," said her mother, smiling at the quaint gravity of Marjorie's eyes.
"Then I don't see why—" said Marjorie.
"Perhaps you will by and by," her mother replied, laughing, for Marjorie was looking as wise as an owl; "and now, please hurry with the apples, for they must bake before tea. Mr. Woodfern says he never ate baked apple sauce anywhere else."