There
was a poise of the head like the elder lady's, and now and then a
stateliness and dignity that were not Marjorie's own when she was his
little friend and companion in work and study at home. In these first
moments he could discern changes better than to-morrow; to-morrow he
would be accustomed to her again; to-morrow he would find the unchanged
little Marjorie that hunted eggs and went after the cows. He could not
explain to himself why he liked that Marjorie better; he could not
explain to himself that he feared Miss Prudence's Marjorie would hold
herself above the second mate of the barque _Linnet_; a second mate whose
highest ambition to become master. Linnet had not held her self above
Captain Will, but Linnet had never loved books as Marjorie did. Morris
was provoked at himself. Did not he love books, and why then should he
quarrel with Marjorie? It was not for loving books, but for loving books
better than--anything! Had Mrs. Browning loved books better than
anything, or Mary Somerville, or Fredrika Bremer?--yes, Fredrika Bremer
had refused to be married, but there was Marjorie's favorite--
"Tell me all about Linnet," said Marjorie, breaking the uncomfortable
silence.
"I have--and she has written."
"But you never can write all. Did she bring me the branch of mulberry
from Mt. Vesuvius?"
"Yes, and will bring it to you next week. She said she would come to you
because she was sure you would not want to leave school; and she wants to
see Miss Prudence.
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