But the safe
feeling was the most blessed of all. Towards noon she lay still with her
white kitten cuddled up in her arms, wondering who would come next;
Hollis had not come, nor Miss Prudence, nor the new minister, nor
grandma, nor Josie Grey; she was wishing they would all come to-day when
she heard a quick step on the piazza and a voice calling out to somebody.
"I won't stay five minutes, father."
The next instant the handsome, cheery face was looking in at the parlor
door and the boisterous "vacation" voice was greeting her with,
"Well, Miss Mousie! How about the tumble down now?"
But her eyes saw nothing excepting the mysterious, flat, round parcel in
his hand.
"Oh, Hollis, I'm so glad!" she exclaimed, raising herself upon one elbow.
The stiff blue muslin was rather crumpled by this time, and in place of
the linen collar and old-fashioned pin her mother had tied a narrow scarf
of white lace about her throat; her hair was brushed back and braided in
two heavy braids and her forehead was bandaged in white.
"Well, Marjorie, you _are_ a picture, I must say," he cried, bounding in.
"Why don't you jump up and take another climb?"
"I want to. I want to see the swallow's nest again; I meant to have fed
the swallows last night"
"Where are they?"
"Oh, up in the eaves. Linnet and I have climbed up and fed them."
As he dropped on his knees on the carpet beside the sofa she fell back on
her pillow.
"Father is waiting for me to go to town with him and I can't stay.
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