ittle
home; the boy on the farm is to be there nights, mother said, and Linnet
will not mind through the day. Mother Rheid, as Linnet says, will run
over every day, and Father Rheid, too, I suspect. They _love_ Linnet."

"Marjorie, if I hadn't had you I believe I should have been content with
Linnet, she is so loving."

"And if you hadn't Prue you would be content with me!" laughed Marjorie,
and just then a strong pull at the bell sent it ringing through the
house, Marjorie sprang to her feet and Miss Prudence moved towards the
door.

"I feel in my bones that it's somebody," cried Marjorie, following her
into the hall.

"I don't believe a ghost could give a pull like that," answered Miss
Prudence, turning the big key.

And a ghost certainly never had such laughing blue eyes or such light
curls sprinkled with snow and surmounted by a jaunty navy-blue sailor
cap, and a ghost never could give such a spring and catch Marjorie in its
arms and rub its cold cheeks against her warm ones.

"O, Morris," Marjorie cried, "it's like that other night when you came in
the snow! Only I'm not frightened and alone now. This is such a surprise!
Such a splendid surprise."

Marjorie was never shy with Morris, her "twin-brother" as she used to
call him.

But the next instant she was escaping out of his arms and fleeing back to
the fire. Miss Prudence and Morris followed more decorously.

"Now tell us all about it," Marjorie cried, stepping about upon the rug
and on the carpet. "And where is Linnet? And when did you get in? And
where's Will? And why didn't Linnet come with you?"

"Because I didn't want to be overshadowed; I wanted a welcome all my own.
And Linnet is at home under her mother's sheltering wing--as I ought to
be under my mother's, instead of being here under yours. Will is on board
the _Linnet_, another place where I ought to be this minute; and we
arrived day before yesterday in New York, where we expect to load for
Liverpool, I took the captain's wife home, and then got away from Mother
West on the plea that I must see my own mother as soon as time and tide
permitted; but to my consternation I found every train stopped at the
foot of Maple Street, so I had to stop, instead of going through as I
wanted to."

"That is a pity," said Marjorie; "but we'll send you off to your mother
to-morrow. Now begin at the beginning and tell me everything that you and
Linnet didn't write about."

"But, first--a moment, Marjorie.