uld you be there in the middle of the night? I might go
and look some night."

"Not by yourself; you _couldn't_. Besides, it would be much jollier to
be together. It would be so exciting finding out what it is, and so
romantic. Mother says that all such stories can generally be explained
by some quite ordinary thing; but still it's fun finding out, isn't it?"

Marjory agreed, but her busy little brain was trying to discover some
possible explanation of the mysterious lights. She had no fears of the
darkness. Her simple faith taught her that she was as safe in the dark
as in the daylight, but she had many fancies--fancies that had come to
her as she lay alone in her little bed watching the moonbeams playing
across her windows, and listening to the whispering of the leaves
outside. The darkness was full of mystery and charm to the lonely child,
but fear had no place in her thoughts concerning it. What could these
lights be--lights that moved about when every one else was asleep? Could
they be the will-o'-the-wisp that Peter had told her about? Could they
perhaps be angels with beautiful white wings and stars on their
foreheads--guardian angels watching over the house while its inmates
slept peacefully?

"Oh, I _should_ like to see what it is!" she cried. "We _must_ try some
night, if only you could come and stay with me!"

"If mother and dad ever have to go to London for anything, then I
might--that is, if Waspy isn't here."

"Oh, I do wish they would go! Wouldn't it be lovely if they did, and you
came to stay?" And Marjory drew a long breath of delight at the thought
of such a pleasure.

The girls had been talking so eagerly that they had not noticed the
passing of the time, and it was quite a shock to them when a maid came
to say that Dr. Hunter had come for Miss Marjory, and would she please
to go at once.

Marjory gave Curly an affectionate good-night hug, and rushed
downstairs with Blanche, afraid that her uncle might be angry with her
for staying so long, it seemed such an unusual thing for him to come to
fetch her. To her relief, however, he was all smiles when she appeared,
and seemed quite interested in her account of the afternoon's doings as
they went home.

CHAPTER VII.

Marjory's apology.

"Fix in your minds--or rather ask God to fix in your minds--this
one idea of an absolutely good God."--KINGSLEY.

Marjory did not sleep very much that night, her thoughts were so busy.
The events