m; she said he was a very sad man. His ship
was wrecked on some coast, I've forgotten where, and he was made to work
in a mine until he was rescued. I think I would have remained dead to her
if she had forgotten me like that. But isn't this a long letter? Morris
has made me promise to write regularly to him; I told him he had never
given me a Holland plate two hundred years old, but he says he will go to
Holland and buy me one and that is better.

"I am glad Hollis wrote such a long letter to his mother if he could not
come home. I wish he would write to her oftener; I do not think she is
quite satisfied to have him write to me instead. I will write to him
to-morrow, but I haven't anything to say, I have told you everything. O,
Linnet, how happy I shall be when your school days are over. Miss
Prudence shall have the next letter; I have something to ask her, as
usual.

"The end of my story in three volumes isn't very startling. But this
snow-storm is. If we hadn't everything under cover we would have to do
without some things.

"Yours,

"MARJORIE"

XIII.

A WEDDING DAY.

"A world-without-end bargain."--_Shakespeare._

A young girl stood in the doorway, shading her eyes with her hand as
she gazed down the dusty road; she was not tall or slight, but a plump,
well-proportioned little creature, with frank, steadfast eyes, a low,
smooth forehead with brown hair rippling away from it, a thoughtful mouth
that matched well with the eyes; an energetic maiden, despite the air of
study that somehow surrounded her; you were sure her voice would be
sweet, and as sure that it would be sprightly, and you were equally sure
that a wealth of strength was hidden behind the sweetness. She was only
eighteen, eighteen to-day, but during the last two years she had rapidly
developed into womanhood. The master told Miss Prudence this morning that
she was trustworthy and guileless, and as sweet and bright as she was
good; still, he believed, as of old, that she did not quite know how to
take her own part; but, as a woman, with a man to fight for her, what
need had she of fighting? He would not have been at all surprised had he
known that she had chosen, that morning, a motto, not only for her new
year, but, as she told Morris, for her lifetime: "The Lord shall fight
for you, and ye shall hold your peace." And he had said: "May I fight for
you, too, Marjorie?" But she had only laughed and answered: "We don't
live in the time of