"But we shall soon know." * * * * * Marjorie had worked hard all day.

Partly because she wanted to prove herself a good worker, and partly because, if she stopped to think, her troubles seemed greater than she could bear.
But a little after five o'clock everything was done, supper prepared, and the child sat down on the kitchen steps to rest.

She was tired, sad, and desolate.

The slight excitement of novelty was gone, the bravery and courage of the morning hours had disappeared, and a great wave of homesickness enveloped her very soul.

She was too lonely and homesick even to cry, and she sat, a pathetic, drooped little figure, on the old tumble-down porch.
She heard the toot of a motor-horn, but it was a familiar sound to her, and she paid no attention to it.