"I don't believe I have," agreed Marjorie, "but then how could I? Oh, Elsie, I'm so happy when I think it has all come about through my recognizing that photograph! Just suppose Beverly and I hadn't gone to Mammy's cabin that afternoon. I might never have seen a picture of Barbara, and the Randolphs might never have known."
"I wonder how they are going to break the news to Mrs. Randolph," remarked Elsie, without heeding her cousin's last observation. "I should think it would be dreadfully dangerous; the shock might kill her."
Marjorie's bright face clouded.
"I can't help worrying about it," she said, "but I am sure Dr. Randolph will find a way of doing it. It's wonderful to see her so calm, just doing every-day things, and talking as if nothing unusual were happening, when we are all so excited and nervous."
"I really don't see how you managed to keep her from suspecting when you were on the way home," said Elsie; "I'm afraid I should have let out something without intending to."
"I couldn't do that," said Marjorie, gravely. "Think how terrible it would have been if Mrs. Randolph had hoped and then been disappointed. I was sure myself, but neither Dr. Randolph nor Beverly believed it could be true. I shall never forget that last evening in Virginia. Beverly and I were both almost ill from excitement, and yet we had to act just as if nothing unusual had happened. Fortunately the doctor and Beverly were to start the first thing in the morning, so we all went to bed early. I don't believe any of us slept a wink; I know I didn't. The day on the train wasn't quite so bad, because Mrs. Patterson was with us, and she hadn't been told anything, and could be natural without trying. I pretended to be very much interested in a book, so as not to have to talk much, but I couldn't tell you what it was about. And all the time Mrs. Randolph was just as sweet and calm as possible, and worried about me because my hands were cold, and I couldn't eat."
"I think you were very plucky," said Elsie.
The bright color rushed into Marjorie's cheeks; this was the first compliment Elsie had ever paid her.
"I wasn't at all plucky," she said, modestly; "any one else would have done the same thing. I'm glad you think I was, though, for I do want you to like me."
"Of course I like you," said Elsie, reddening in her turn. "There's the door-bell; I wonder if it's Mamma."