Hunters Marjory | Page 9

just yet.
"Well, you will know some day. There are many things which you are
too young to understand, and you must try to trust in your uncle's
knowing what is best for you in the matter of your father, who will
return to you some day, I hope."
"Oh! do you really think that is possible?" cried Marjory. "Could it ever
happen?"
"Certainly it might. I don't see any reason at all why you shouldn't hope
for his coming. And if you will promise to be very patient, and to hope
for the best, I will tell you something very nice that I heard said about
your father a little while ago."
Marjory's eyes grew big with wonder. "Oh, do tell me. Indeed I will try
to be patient."
"Well, an old friend of mine in London, who knows your uncle, and
met your father long ago, said to me, 'A fine fellow was Hugh
Davidson. I always feel that he may turn up again some day.'"
Mrs. Forester did not repeat other words said at the same time--namely,
that "Hunter was always jealous, and would see no good in him;" but
she felt justified in telling Marjory what she did, for she well knew how
the girl would treasure the words, and how they might often comfort
and encourage her.
"Oh! that is good," said Marjory. "I do thank you for telling me." And
she squeezed her friend's hand.
"Now you must try to be very patient and hopeful. If God sees fit, be
sure that He will give your father to you for your very own some day.
In the meantime you must do all you can to be the sort of girl that a

father would be proud of; and, Marjory, I have been thinking that your
uncle might say the same of you as you do of him. You are fond of him,
really, aren't you?"
"Yes, of course," assented Marjory.
"Well, do you ever tell him so?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Oh, I shouldn't dare to."
"Nonsense! I suppose you would quite like it if he were to put his arms
round you and call you his dear little Marjory?"
"Yes." Marjory was quite sure that she would like it very much, but she
could hardly imagine such a thing happening.
"Well, do you ever go near enough to him to let him do it if he wanted
to, or do you simply give him your cheek to kiss, morning and evening,
and nothing more?"
"Yes, that's just what I do," confessed Marjory, laughing.
"Then perhaps your poor uncle thinks that you consider yourself too
big to be kissed and hugged, and so he doesn't do it. You can't blame
him, you know; if you just give him a little peck, and run away, you
don't give him a chance. You take my advice: try to be a little more
loving in your manner towards him, and it will soon make a difference.
Perhaps you don't like a stranger to speak so plainly to you, but I have
heard so much about you that I don't feel like a stranger at all. But I
must be going now. Dr. Hunter has invited Blanche to come to tea with
you to-morrow, and I hope this will be the beginning of a brighter life
for you, my child. Good-bye, dear," kissing her.--"Come, Blanche; we
must be going now."
The girls bade each other good-bye somewhat shyly, while Silky

looked on approvingly, wagging his tail, as if he knew that in some
way these strangers had been good to his mistress; and when they were
gone he turned to Marjory and rubbed his soft, wet nose against her
hand as if to say, "It's all right now, isn't it?" Marjory returned the dog's
caress, and walked slowly and thoughtfully towards the house.
CHAPTER III.
UNCLE AND NIECE.
"If thou art worn and hard beset With troubles that thou wouldst forget,
Go to the woods and hills! No tears Dim the sweet look that nature
wears."
LONGFELLOW.
One thing showed itself very clearly to Marjory's mind--she must tell
her uncle at once that she was sorry for what she had said, though how
she was to bring herself to do so she did not know. She had never had
to do such a thing before, and now that she was calm again it seemed
impossible that she could have spoken those wild words. She realized
how these feelings against her uncle had been gathering force for a long
time. Very slowly, very gradually they had grown, to arrive at their full
strength as she listened to Mary Ann Smylie's tormenting suggestions.
She had grown to hate even the name by which she was known in and
about Heathermuir. Why did people