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The old eyes never once suspected that the work grew faster than her own fingers moved. Once she remarked plaintively: "Seems to me it takes you a long time to pick up one stitch." "There were three this time," returned Marjorie, seriously. "What does the master learn you about?" asked Mrs. Rheid. "Oh, the school studies! And I read the dictionary by myself." "I thought you had some new words."
Kemlo's face and voice and words and manner, was perfect peace. Aunt Prue's letters were overflowing with joy in her husband and child, and joy in God. Only Marjorie was left outside. Mrs. Rheid had become zealous in good works. She read extracts from Hollis' letters to her, where he wrote of his enjoyment in church work, his Bible class, the Young Men's Christian Association, the prayer-meeting.
The door was closed as suddenly and the boy and girl stood silent, looking at each other. "Your Morris Kemlo is a fine young man," observed Mrs. Rheid as she pushed the bolt into its place. "He is a heartease to his mother," replied Mrs. West, who was sometimes poetical. "Does Marjorie like him pretty well?" "Why, yes, we all do. He is like our own flesh and blood. But why did you ask?"
He did not miss it that he did not love his father, but he would have given more than a little if he might respect him. He knew Marjorie would not believe that he did not think about his mother. "I wonder if your father will work at his trade next winter," continued Captain Rheid. "I don't know," said Marjorie, hoping the "turn" was not far off. "I'd advise him to summers, too, for that matter.
"I could not choose anything to fit me better I had no thought that I have ever succeeded; I never put it to myself in that way." "Perhaps I'll begin some day. Helen Rheid helps Hollis. He isn't the same boy; he studies and buys books and notices things to be admired in people, and when he is full of fun he isn't rough. I don't believe I ever helped anybody."
Holmes was an elocutionist and had taken great pains with Hollis Rheid's voice. There was a courteous gentleness in his manner all his own; if knighthood meant purity, goodness, truth and manliness, then Hollis Rheid was a knightly school-boy.
I was not to go out into the world as a bread-winner or 'on a mission, but I was to stay home and make a home for a good man, and to make it such a sweet, lovely home that it was to be like a little heaven. There's a knock at the door and a message for Miss Prudence. "Later. The message was that Helen Rheid is very sick and wants her to come to sit up with her to-night.
"I'll stir," said Marjorie, looking around at the old lady and discovering her head dropped towards one side and the knitting aslant in her fingers. "The pudding stick is on the shelf next to the tin porringer," explained Mrs. Rheid. Marjorie moved to the stove and stood a moment holding the wooden pudding stick in her hand.
Rheid told me about a sea captain that she met when she was on a voyage with Captain Rheid. He had been given up for lost when he was young and when he came back he found his wife married to another man, but she gave up the second husband and went back to the first. She was dead when Mrs. Rheid met him; she said he was a very sad man.
Hollis Rheid had shoved big sticks into the stove until it would hold no more and had opened the draft, whispering to her as he passed her seat that he would keep her warm at any rate.
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