Marcia to her home to stay during his
absence. He spoke of it regretfully just as he was about to leave, and
asked if she would like him to get some one to escort her by coach to her
father's house until he could come for her; but she held back the tears by
main force and shook her head. She had canvassed that question in the
still hours of the night. She had met in imagination the home village with
its kindly and unkindly curiosity, she had seen their hands lifted in
suspicion; heard their covert whispers as to why her husband did not come
with her; why he had left her so soon after the honeymoon; why--a hundred
things. She had even thought of Aunt Polly and her acrid tongue and made
up her mind that whatever happened she did not want to go home to stay.

The only other alternative was to go to the aunts. David expected it, and
the aunts spoke of it as if nothing else were possible. Marcia would have
preferred to remain alone in her own house, with her beloved piano, but
David would not consent, and the aunts were scandalized at the suggestion.
So to the aunts went Marcia, and they took her in with a hope in their
hearts that she might get the same good from the visit that the sluggard
in the Bible is bidden to find.

"We must do our duty by her for David's sake," said Aunt Hortense, with
pursed lips and capable, folded hands that seemed fairly to ache to get at
the work of reconstructing the new niece.

"Yes, it is our opportunity," said Aunt Amelia with a snap as though she
thoroughly enjoyed the prospect. "Poor David!" and so they sat and laid
out their plans for their sweet young victim, who all unknowingly was
coming to one of those tests in her life whereby we are tried for greater
things and made perfect in patience and sweetness.

It began with the first breakfast--the night before she had been company,
at supper--but when the morning came they felt she must be counted one of
the family. They examined her thoroughly on what she had been taught with
regard to housekeeping. They made her tell her recipes for pickling and
preserving. They put her through a catechism of culinary lore, and always
after her most animated account of the careful way in which she had been
trained in this or that housewifely art she looked up with wistful eyes
that longed to please, only to be met by the hard set lips and steely
glances of the two mentors who regretted that she should not have been
taught their way which was so much be