"
"And _did_ one?" asked Maijorie, in her innocent voice. Linnet was sure
her lungs were made of leather else she would have burst them every day
laughing at foolish little Marjorie.
"The story ended there," said Linnet.
"Stories always leave off at interesting places," said Marjorie, guarding
Linnet's future with slow-moving fingers. "I hope mine won't."
"It will if you die in the middle of it," returned Linnet
Linnet was washing the baking dishes at the sink.
"No, it wouldn't, it would go on and be more interesting," said Marjorie,
in her decided way; "but I do want to finish it all."
"Be careful, don't break mine," continued Linnet, as Marjorie gave the
apple rings a toss. "There! you have!" she cried disappointedly. "You've
spoiled my fortune, Marjie."
"Linnet! Linnet!" rebuked her mother, shutting the oven door, "I thought
you were only playing. I wouldn't have let you go on if I had thought you
would have taken it in earnest."
"I don't really," returned Linnet, with a vexed laugh, "but I did want to
see what letter it would be."
"It's _O_," said Marjorie, turning to look over her shoulder.
"Rather a crooked one," conceded Linnet, "but it will have to do."
"Suppose you try a dozen times and they all come different," suggested
practical Marjorie.
"That proves it's all nonsense," answered her mother.
"And suppose you don't marry anybody," Marjorie continued, spoiling
Linnet's romance, "some letter, or something _like_ a letter has to come,
and then what of it?"
"Oh, it's only fun," explained Linnet.
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