destroy that
letter in his pocket or to show it to her. Would it give her something
else to shake off in the sunshine?

Hollis was wondering if this Marjorie, with her sweet, bright face, her
graceful step and air of ladyhood, with modest and quick replies, not at
all intruding herself, but giving herself, unconsciously, could be the
same half-bashful little girl that he had walked with on a country road
four years before; the little girl who fell so far behind his ideal, the
little girl so different from city girls; and now, who among his small
circle of girlhood at home could surpass her? And she was dressed so
plainly, and there were marks of toil upon her fingers, and even freckles
hidden beneath the fresh bloom of her cheek! She would hunt eggs tomorrow
and milk the cows, she might not only weed in the garden, but when the
potatoes were dug she might pick them up, and even assist her father in
assorting them. Had he not said that Marjorie was his "boy" as well as
her mother's girl? Had she not taken the place of Morris in all things
that a girl could, and had she not taken his place with the master and
gone on with Virgil where Morris left off?

"Marjorie, I don't see the _need_ of your going to school?" he was saying
when they joined the others.

"Hollis, you are right," repeated the master, emphatically, "that is only
a whim, but she will graduate the first year, so it doesn't matter."

"You see he is proud of his work," said Marjorie, "he will not give any
school the credit of me."

"I will give you into Miss Prudence's keeping for a term of years, to
round you off, to make you more of a woman and less of a student--like
herself."

Marjorie's eyes kindled, "I wish Morris might hear that! He has been
scolding me,--but that would satisfy him."

After several moments of light talk, if the master ever could be said to
encourage light talk, he touched Miss Prudence, detaining her with him,
and Marjorie and Hollis walked on together.

Marjorie and Hollis were not silent, nor altogether grave, for now and
then her laugh would ripple forth and he would join, with a ringing,
boyish laugh that made her forget that he had grown up since that day he
brought her the plate.

But the two behind them were altogether grave; Miss Prudence was
speaking, for Mr. Holmes had asked her what kind of a day she had had.

"To-morrow is to be one of our anniversaries, you know," she replied;
"twenty-four years ago--to-morrow--w