know. And when she joined the Church she
was so anxious for him to join, too, and she wrote him a note about it
and he answered it and they kept on writing and then they were married."

"Did he join the Church?" asked Hollis,

"He hasn't yet."

"It is easier for girls to be good than for boys," rejoined Hollis in an
argumentative tone,

"Is it? I don't see how."

"Of course you don't. We are in the world where the temptations are; what
temptations do _you_ have?"

"I have enough. But I don't want to go out in the world where more
temptations are. Don't you know--" She colored and stopped,

"Know what?"

"About Christ praying that his disciples might be kept from the evil that
was in the world, not that they might be taken out of the world. They
have _got_ to be in the world."

"Yes."

"And," she added sagely, "anybody can be good where no temptations are."

"Is that why girls are good?"

"I don't think girls are good."

"The girls I know are."

"You know city girls," she said archly. "We country girls have the world
in our own hearts."

There was nothing of "the world" in the sweet face that he looked down
into, nothing of the world in the frank, true voice. He had been wronging
her; how much there was in her, this wise, old, sweet little Marjorie!

"Have you forgotten your errand?" she asked, after a moment.

"No, it is at Mr. Howard's, the house beyond yours."

"I'm glad you had the errand."

"So am I. I should have gone home and not known anything about you."

"And I should have stayed tangled in the black berry vines ever so long,"
she laughed.

"You haven't told me why you were there."

"Because I was silly," she said emphatically.

"Do silly people always hide in blackberry vines?" he questioned,
laughing.

"Silly people like me," she said.

At that moment they stopped in front of the gate of Marjorie's home;
through the lilac-bushes--the old fence was overgrown with lilacs--Hollis
discerned some bright thing glimmering on the piazza. The bright thing
possessed a quick step and a laugh, for it floated towards them and when
it appeared at the gate Hollis found that it was only Linnet.

There was nothing of the mouse about Linnet.

"Why, Marjie, mother said you might stay till dark."

Linnet was seventeen, but she was not too grown up for "mother said" to
be often on her lips.

"I didn't want to," said Marjorie. "Good-bye, Hollis. I'm going to hunt
eggs."

"I'd go with you, i