ke Marjorie, even in her first great sorrow, to fall asleep
thanking God.

XXIII.

GOD'S LOVE.

"As many as I love I rebuke and chasten."

Marjorie opened her "English Literature." She must recite to-morrow. She
had forgotten whom she had studied about Saturday afternoon.

Again Hollis was beside her in the train. Her shawl strap was at her
feet; her ticket was tucked into her glove; she opened at the same place
in "English Literature." Now she remembered "Donald Grant Mitchell." His
"Dream Life" was one of Morris' favorites. They had read it together one
summer under the apple-tree. He had coaxed her to read aloud, saying that
her voice suited it. She closed the book; she could not study; how
strange it would be to go among the girls and hear them laugh and talk;
would any of them ask her if she were in trouble? They would remember her
sailor boy.

Was it Saturday afternoon? Hollis wore those brown kid gloves, and there
was the anchor dangling from his black chain. She was not too shy to look
higher, and meet the smile of his eyes to-day. Was she going home and
expecting a letter from Morris? There was a letter in her pocket; but it
was not from Morris. Hollis had said he expected to hear from Will; and
they had heard from Will. He would be home before very long, and tell
them all the rest. The train rushed on; a girl was eating peanuts behind
her, and a boy was studying his Latin Grammar in front of her. She was
going to Morris' mother; the rushing train was hurrying her on. How could
she say to Miss Prudence, "Morris is dead."

"Marjorie."

"Well," she answered, rousing herself.

"Are you comfortable?"

The voice was sympathetic; tears started, she could only nod in reply.

There seemed to be nothing to talk about to-day.

She had replied in monosyllables so long that he was discouraged with his
own efforts at conversation, and lapsed into silence. But it was a
silence that she felt she might break at any moment.

The train stopped at last; it had seemed as if it would never stop, and
then as if it would stop before she could catch her breath and be ready
to speak. If she had not refused that something he had brought her this
would not have been so hard. Had he cared so very much? Would she have
cared very much if he had refused those handkerchiefs she had marked for
him? But Hollis had taken her shawl strap, and was rising.

"You will not have time to get out."

"Did you think I would leav