ago."

Marjory's eyes grew big with wonder. "Oh, _do_ tell me. Indeed I will
try to be patient."

"Well, an old friend of mine in London, who knows your uncle, and met
your father long ago, said to me, 'A fine fellow was Hugh Davidson. I
always feel that he may turn up again some day.'"

Mrs. Forester did not repeat other words said at the same time--namely,
that "Hunter was always jealous, and would see no good in him;" but she
felt justified in telling Marjory what she did, for she well knew how
the girl would treasure the words, and how they might often comfort and
encourage her.

"Oh! that _is_ good," said Marjory. "I do thank you for telling me." And
she squeezed her friend's hand.

"Now you must try to be very patient and hopeful. If God sees fit, be
sure that He will give your father to you for your very own some day. In
the meantime you must do all you can to be the sort of girl that a
father would be proud of; and, Marjory, I have been thinking that your
uncle might say the same of you as you do of him. You are fond of him,
really, aren't you?"

"Yes, of course," assented Marjory.

"Well, do you ever tell him so?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Oh, I shouldn't dare to."

"Nonsense! I suppose you would quite like it if he were to put his arms
round you and call you his dear little Marjory?"

"Yes." Marjory was quite sure that she would like it very much, but she
could hardly imagine such a thing happening.

"Well, do you ever go near enough to him to let him do it if he wanted
to, or do you simply give him your cheek to kiss, morning and evening,
and nothing more?"

"Yes, that's just what I do," confessed Marjory, laughing.

"Then perhaps your poor uncle thinks that you consider yourself too big
to be kissed and hugged, and so he doesn't do it. You can't blame him,
you know; if you just give him a little peck, and run away, you don't
give him a chance. You take my advice: try to be a little more loving in
your manner towards him, and it will soon make a difference. Perhaps you
don't like a stranger to speak so plainly to you, but I have heard so
much about you that I don't feel like a stranger at all. But I must be
going now. Dr. Hunter has invited Blanche to come to tea with you
to-morrow, and I hope this will be the beginning of a brighter life for
you, my child. Good-bye, dear," kissing her.--"Come, Blanche; we must be
going now."

The girls bade each other good-bye somewhat shyly, while Silky loo