aimed with a shadowed
face.

"I wish I had something to give you to remember me by," he said suddenly.

"I think you _have_ given me lots of things."

"Come, Hol, don't stand there all day," expostulated his brother from the
sleigh.

"Good-bye, then," said Hollis.

"Good-bye," said Marjorie. And then he was off and the bells were
jingling down the road and she had not even cautioned him "Be a good
boy." She wished she had had something to give him to remember _her_ by;
she had never done one thing to help him remember her and when he came
back in years and years they would both be grown up and not know each
other.

"Marjie, you are taking too thick peels," remonstrated her mother. For
the next half hour she conscientiously refrained from thinking of any
thing but the apples.

"Oh, Marjie," exclaimed Linnet, "peel one whole, be careful and don't
break it, and throw it over your right shoulder and see what letter
comes."

"Why?" asked Magorie, selecting a large, fair apple to peel.

"I'll tell you when it comes," answered Linnet, seriously.

With an intent face, and slow, careful fingers, Marjorie peeled the
handsome apple without breaking the coils of the skin, then poised her
hand and gave the shining, green rings a toss over her shoulder to the
oilcloth.

"_S! S!_ Oh! what a handsome _S!_" screamed Linnet.

"Well, what does it mean?" inquired Marjorie, interestedly.

"Oh, nothing, only you will marry a man whose name begins with _S_," said
Linnet, seriously.

"I don't believe I will!" returned Marjorie, contentedly. "Do you believe
I will, mother?"

Mrs. West was lifting a deliciously browned pumpkin pie from the oven,
she set it carefully on the table beside Marjorie's yellow dish of
quartered apples and then turned to the oven for its mate.

"Now cut one for me," urged Linnet gleefully.

"But I don't believe it," persisted Marjorie, picking among the apples in
the basket at her feet; "you don't believe it yourself."

"I never _knew_ it to come true," admitted Linnet, sagely, "but _S_ is a
common letter. There are more Smiths in the world than any one else. A
woman went to an auction and bought a brass door plate with _Smith_ on it
because she had six daughters and was sure one of them would marry a
Smith."

"And _did_ one?" asked Maijorie, in her innocent voice. Linnet was sure
her lungs were made of leather else she would have burst them every day
laughing at foolish little Marjorie.

"Th