There was a strange fascination to her
in the round face, with its dark eyes and mass of dark hair piled high on
the head. It was a vignette and the head seemed to be rising from folds
of black lace, the only ornament was a tiny gold chain on which was
placed a small gold cross.
To Marjorie this picture was the embodiment of every good and beautiful
thing. It was somebody that she might be like when she had read all the
master's books, and learned all pretty, gentle ways. She never saw Helen
Rheid, notwithstanding Helen Rheid's life was one of the moulds in which
some of her influences were formed. Helen Rheid was as much to her as
Mrs. Browning was to Miss Prudence. After another long look she slipped
the picture back into the envelope and laid it on the table behind her.
"You are going with Miss Prudence when Linnet is through, I suppose?"
asked Mrs. Rheid.
"So mother says. It seems a long time to wait, but I am studying at home.
Mother cannot spare me to go to school, now, and Mr. Holmes says he would
rather hear me recite than not. So I am learning to sew and do housework
as well."
"You need that as much as schooling," returned Mrs. Rheid, decidedly. "I
wish one of my boys could have gone to college, there's money enough to
spare, but their father said he had got his learning knocking around the
world and they could get theirs the same way."
"Hollis studies--he's studying French now."
"Did you bring a letter from him?" inquired his mother, eagerly.
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