Marilyn sprang up and burst into the dining-room: "Mother! Did you think I was such a spoiled baby that I couldn't be

courteous to a stranger even if she was a detestable little vamp?

You're not to bother about it any more. She'll come into my room with

me of course. You didn't expect me to sail through life without any

sacrifices at all did you, Motherie? Suppose I had gone to Africa as I

almost did last year? Don't you fancy there'd have been some things

harder than sharing my twin beds with a disagreeable stranger? Besides,

remember those angels unaware that the Bible talks about. I guess this

is up to me, so put away your frets and come on in. It's time we had

worship and ended this day. But I guess those two self-imposed boarders

of ours need a little religion first. Come on!"

She dropped a kiss on each forehead lightly and fled into the other

room.

"What a girl she is!" said her father tenderly putting his hand gently

on the spot she had kissed, "A great blessing in our home! Dear child!"

The mother said nothing, but her eyes were filled with a great content.

Marilyn, throwing aside her hat and appearing in the front door called

pleasantly to the two outside: "Well, I'm ready for the music. You can come in when you wish."

They sauntered in presently, but Marilyn was already at the piano

playing softly a bit from the Angel Chorus, a snatch of Handel's Largo,

a Chopin Nocturne, one of Mendelssohn's songs without words. The two

came in hilariously, the young man pretending to lean heavily on the

girl, and finding much occasion to hold her hands, a performance to

which she seemed to be not at all averse. They came and stood beside

the piano.

"Now," said Opal gaily, when Marilyn came to the end of another

Nocturne: "That's enough gloom. Give us a little jazz and Laurie and

I'll dance awhile."

Marilyn let her hands fall with a soft crash on the keys and looked up.

Then her face broke up into a smile, as if she had put aside an

unpleasant thought and determined to be friendly: "I'm sorry," she said firmly, "We don't play jazz, my piano and I. I

never learned to love it, and besides I'm tired. I've been playing all

day you know. You will excuse anything more I'm sure. And it's getting

late for Sabbath Valley. Did you have any plans for to-night?"

Opal stared, but Marilyn stared back pleasantly, and Laurie watched

them both.




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