Marion Speaks Her Mind

Philippa sprang to her feet. "Oh," she cried, "I never thought you would be able to come. How delightful!"

Marion returned her kiss warmly. "I felt I must see you," she said affectionately, "and I was able to leave Dickie for a little while."

"How is he?"

"Getting gradually stronger."

"Is your husband here?"

"No, he stopped with the boy; we could not both come away. I can only stay a short time. Will you come into the morning-room and let us have a talk there, where we shall be undisturbed?"

"You got my letter?" asked Philippa.

"Yes, that is why I came," answered Marion gravely. "Will you tell me all about it, dear?"

For answer Philippa flung her arms about her and held her close. There was something so comforting, so dear about Marion, that at the sight of her a flood of recollection flashed through the girl's mind of unnumbered kindnesses and loving counsel in the old days, a thousand links in the chain which bound them in friendship, and yet--now--how was she to make her understand?

Marion, with all the genius for loving-kindness which she undoubtedly possessed, held certain rigid and unwavering opinions. They were a part of her; without them she would not have been Marion--the Marion Philippa loved--and it was just her perfectly sane, normal outlook on life which made the stumbling-block, for it was not easy to her to take another person's point of view, or look, as it were, through another person's eyes.