Miss Prudence moved the fan backward and forward and studied the sleeping, innocent face. I had almost written "sweet" again; I can scarcely think of her face, as it was then, without writing sweet. It would be long, Miss Prudence mused, before lines and creases intruded here and there in that smooth forehead, and in the tinted cheeks that dimpled at the least provocation; but life would bring them in time, and they would add beauty if there were no bitterness nor hardness in them. If the Holy Spirit dwelt in the temple of the body were not the lines upon the face his handwriting? She knew more than one old face that was growing more attractive with each year of life.
The door was pushed open and Mrs. West's broad shoulders and motherly face appeared. Miss Prudence smiled and laid her finger on her lips and, smiling, too, the mother moved away. Linnet, in her kitchen apron, and with the marks of the morning's baking on her fingers, next looked in, nodded and ran away. After awhile, the sleeping eyelids quivered and lifted themselves; a quick flush, a joyous exclamation and Marjorie sprang into her friend's arms.
"I felt as if I were not alone! How long have you been here? Oh, why didn't you speak to me or touch me?"
"I wanted to have the pleasure all on my side. I never saw you asleep before."
"I hope I didn't keep my mouth open and snore."
"Oh, no, your lips were gently apart and you breathed regularly as they would say in books!"
Marjorie laughed, released Miss Prudence from the tight clasp and went back to her chair.
"You received my note and the plate," she said anxiously.
"Both in perfect preservation. There was not one extra crack in the plate, it was several hours older than when it left your hands, but that only increases its value."
"And did you think I was dreadful not to confess before?" asked Marjorie, tremulously.