had been, half
mad with anguish, even without the fact of his hasty marriage added to the
situation.

And in due time, by coach, the letter came to David.

CHAPTER IX

The morning sunbeams fell across the floor when Marcia awoke suddenly to a
sense of her new surroundings. For a moment she could not think where she
was nor how she came there. She looked about the unfamiliar walls, covered
with paper decorated in landscapes--a hill in the distance with a tall
castle among the trees, a blue lake in the foreground and two maidens
sitting pensively upon a green bank with their arms about one another.
Marcia liked it. She felt there was a story in it. She would like to
imagine about the lives of those two girls when she had more time.

There were no pictures in the room to mar those upon the paper, but the
walls did not look bare. Everything was new and stiff and needed a woman's
hand to bring the little homey touches, but the newness was a delight to
the girl. It was as good as the time when she was a little girl and played
house with Mary Ann down on the old flat stone in the pasture, with acorns
for cups and saucers, and bits of broken china carefully treasured upon
the mossy shelves in among the roots of the old elm tree that arched over
the stone.

She was stiff from the long ride, but her sleep had wonderfully refreshed
her, and now she was ready to go to work. She wondered as she rose how she
got upon that bed, how the blue bonnet got untied and laid upon the chair
beside her. Surely she could not have done it herself and have no memory
of it. Had she walked upstairs herself, or did some one carry her? Did
David perhaps? Good kind David! A bird hopped upon the window seat and
trilled a song, perked his head knowingly at her and flitted away. Marcia
went to the window to look after him, and was held by the new sights that
met her gaze. She could catch glimpses of houses through bowers of vines,
and smoke rising from chimneys. She wondered who lived near, and if there
were girls who would prove pleasant companions. Then she suddenly
remembered that she was a girl no longer and must associate with married
women hereafter.

But suddenly the clock on the church steeple across the way warned her
that it was late, and with a sense of deserving reprimand she hurried
downstairs.

The fire was already lighted and David had brought in fresh water. So much
his intuition had told h